by M. J. Scott
Though if Martin was going to bond with Ignatius, then the repercussions of my defection were likely to be even more unpleasant.
But there would be time enough to worry about burning bridges and other disasters when Reggie was safe. I gritted my teeth and pretended to be a statue while Ignatius and Martin exchanged a few more rounds of coded banter. I committed it to memory, though I wasn’t sure how useful it would be.
Eventually Ignatius dismissed us, inviting Martin to partake of the hospitality of the warrens. I didn’t want to think too hard about what that might involve, but it was the chance we needed to look for Reggie.
The same white-clad Trusted guided us back to a higher level of the warrens. There he explained the available services—which, to my relief, boiled down to sex, alcohol, and gambling rather than blood or torture—and where they might be found, then left us to choose our poison.
Martin looked at me. “I don’t want to stay here any longer than necessary,” he said in a soft voice. “The boys and I will go play some cards for an hour or so. You poke around. If you find your girl, then get her out. Don’t get caught.”
I took that to mean that I couldn’t expect much assistance from them. Fair enough. He’d agreed to get me in here and he’d done that much. I hadn’t expected him to help me beyond that unless we actually stumbled across Reggie in the hallway.
“I’ll try not to,” I said and left them as they headed toward the rooms the Trusted had said were for gambling. I would look through the other public areas quickly, but first I wanted to find somewhere private.
There were more Beasts and Blood in the halls now, which made me think perhaps Ignatius wasn’t making false promises. Maybe he was close to gaining control of the Blood Court. I moved carefully but some of the Blood I passed pressed uncomfortably close. Most Blood Assemblies are a crush but a certain amount of propriety is still observed. Random bumps and knocks are inevitable, but this felt different. Here, the bumps were deliberate and the “accidental” touches lingered too long to be anything but intentional. Their gazes lingered too, trying to snare mine and work their vampire allure. It made my skin crawl and I picked up my pace, muttering false apologies as I headed for one of the washrooms the Trusted had mentioned. I locked the door behind me with a shudder of relief.
“What are you doing?”
Lily’s voice was soft in my ear. I jumped, then scowled. I turned on the tap in the basin, hoping the water would muffle our conversation if there were any hear-me charms in the room. And hide it from the all too acute ears of the Blood as well. I couldn’t feel any magic, but who knew what the Blood could do? “Looking for you,” I said in a voice just as quiet as hers. “Do you know where she is?”
Lily faded into sight. She wore stark black. Soft pants, boots, a shirt, hair drawn back in braids. Her dagger rode her right hip and a small black leather pouch hung from the other. She looked deadly, her mouth set and her eyes angry. “I need you to stay calm,” she said.
“Why?”
“So you don’t get yourself killed,” Lily said. “Can you do that?”
I set my jaw against the greasy mix of fear and anger churning my stomach. “I’m calm. Tell me.”
“She’s here. Upstairs.”
I reached for control. “Just her?” We’d promised we’d look for Viola as well.
Lily nodded. “No sign of Viola.”
Fuck. Well, we would have to figure out where Viola might be and what it meant that she and Reggie weren’t together later. Reggie was my first priority. “Show me where she is.”
“No. Not right now.”
“Why not? We came here to get her.” I leaned against the edge of the basin, gripped the cool porcelain hard so that it pressed my chain into my wrist. The flare of pain helped me focus.
“I know, but she’s busy right now.”
“Doing what?” My voice was a little too loud. I clamped my jaw shut.
Lily tilted her head. “Calm, remember? She’s with the Nightseekers they’ve brought out for the night. The ones being shared around.”
I was halfway to the door before I realized what I was doing. Lily blocked me, pushing me back hard.
“Fen.” She gripped my wrist, pressing the chain tighter against my skin.
I bit down against the pain, tried to shake her off. But she was strong and the pain seared up my arm, stopping my breath for a second. I stopped resisting. “I have to get to her.”
“I know. But you can’t charge in there and drag her out immediately. I’ve been watching. There’s a system the Blood use with the Nightseekers. They choose one, take them off into private rooms.”
Where they would feed. Some vampire had his fangs in Reggie’s neck. And gods knew what else might be going on. Rage boiled through me. Lily’s grip tightened.
“They go away for about half an hour. Then they come back to the main floor. They’re meant to mingle and look pretty, but they’re usually not used again straightaway. If you wait, she’ll be brought back. It’s crowded in the main rooms and there are Blood and Beasts and humans. We can get her away from there.”
Lily’s voice was cool. Reasonable. It made me even angrier. “You want me to just sit here and wait while they use her like that?”
“I want to get both of you out of here alive.”
“You—” Nausea rolled through me. Reggie.
“I know this is hard, Fen. But they’re giving her blood . . . It . . . it won’t be hurting her.” She grimaced with distaste even as she spoke the words.
She meant that if Reggie was under the influence of vampire blood, she’d be enjoying whatever was done to her. “Am I supposed to think that’s better?” The words stung my throat. Gods. Reggie.
“No,” Lily said flatly. “Trust me, Fen. I know.”
Lily had grown up here. Been Lucius’ slave. I had never asked Holly if she knew anything about what had happened to Lily here, but from her tone now, I knew it had been bad.
“I—”
“I know,” Lily said. “There’s nothing good about this. But no pain is better than pain. And alive is better than dead.”
Her words seemed to come from a distance as I fought the rage, struggled for control. She was right. “How do we get her out?”
“If she’s in the main salon, then none of the Blood have claimed her personally. So she can leave, if she wants to. We just have to get her to the front door and into a carriage. They won’t be expecting anyone to come after her here.”
If she wants to. That was the catch. Reggie had been here for two days already. Had drunk vampire blood. Would she want to leave? Would she even know who I was?
“And if she won’t come?”
“Then we knock her out, slap an invisibility charm on her, and you carry her out.”
“Like Simon did to you?” The story of how Simon and Guy had kidnapped Lily from one of the Blood Assemblies was one I had heard.
“Well, I’d prefer we didn’t have to start a riot to cover our exit like they did,” Lily said dryly. “Plus they didn’t use a charm, but close enough. Now, are you going to be sensible and wait?”
I took a deep breath. It felt wrong but I knew I had to do as Lily had suggested. “Yes.”
She let go of my wrist, stepped back. “Good. Because there’s one other thing.”
Chapter Nine
FEN
“Tell me,” I said. I was sure I wasn’t going to like what she had to say, but at this point there was little that would make the situation actively worse.
In response, Lily drew something out of the leather pouch at her hip. Dangled it in front of me. A heavy black chain about sixteen inches long.
I regarded it warily, much as if she’d hung a snake in front of my face. “Iron?”
She shook her head. “I think it’s enameled. It belongs to Ignatius. I’ve seen him wear it.”
Which made it even more dangerous. “What do you want me to do with it?”
“You said proximity to a person helps
you see. And Holly told me that sometimes touching things works for you as well.” She moved the chain closer. “So look.”
“Right now?”
“When better? Ignatius is close by and you can touch something of his as well. You’re unlikely to get a better chance to see.”
I was beginning to think that Lily had ice water running in her veins. She had a ruthless practicality that I might admire if I was less angry. “I have other things on my mind right now.”
“Worrying won’t help Reggie,” Lily said, her tone still unnaturally calm. “You need a distraction. We need the information. Take it.”
I shook my head. “My visions . . . lately . . . there’s a cost.”
“They hurt, you mean? That’s all right. Bryony gave me this.” She pulled a small glass vial out of the pouch with her free hand. A dark green liquid sloshed within it.
“What’s that?”
“It will stop the pain for a while.” She waggled the vial. “She said it’s very strong, so she wouldn’t give it to you regularly but it would work this time.”
Oh good, a Fae potion so strong even the Fae Master Healer was concerned about it. Just what I needed. But I couldn’t come up with an argument. I’d agreed to try and use my visions to help the human delegation. And this was a prime opportunity. All I needed was to be able to forget about Reggie. Perhaps Lily could teach me how to master detachment in five minutes or less.
Maybe not. After all, she’d learned her lessons from thirty-odd years in Lucius’ service. Her control was hard won.
Then again, I had, in the past—before the City started going to hell—prided myself on my own control over my visions. Perhaps that would stand me in good stead now.
“Not here,” I said. “I’ve been in here too long already. We need somewhere more private.”
The last thing I wanted was for someone to come rattling the bathroom doorknob in the middle of a vision. That would draw the sort of attention I needed to avoid.
“There’s a sort of closet with cleaning supplies farther down the corridor,” Lily said. “Let’s go.” She jerked her head toward the door.
The wraith was impatient. Wonderful. Easy for her—she wasn’t the one who could be potentially discovered.
Nerves twisted my stomach, mixing uneasily with the coffee I’d downed earlier. Acid rose in my throat as I slipped out of the bathroom. I swallowed hard and kept moving. Sure enough, a little way down the corridor there was a plain wooden door with no markings.
“This one,” Lily said, her voice coming from somewhere close to my right side. Talking to thin air was hard to get used to.
I glanced over my shoulder. The corridor was still empty. I tried the door. Locked. I swore under my breath but I’d come prepared for this eventuality. Holly and I had been taught to pick locks by the same thief and while her talent surpassed mine, this one looked simple enough. There was no wardlight shimmering around it to indicate there might be protections other than the lock itself.
Luckily, my assessment was correct. The lock yielded easily to my picks and I stepped into the tiny room, pulling the door tight behind me.
“Lily?” I whispered.
She faded into sight. There were only a few feet between us; the walls to the right and left held cleaning supplies—buckets and rags and dark glass bottles of gods knew what. The wall behind me was bare except for a high row of metal hooks. Which left about four square feet of free space. In different circumstances, with a different girl, the proximity and semidarkness might have spawned some different urges, but I had no leaning toward dalliance with Lily. She was clearly taken and would probably stab me for trying.
For a moment Saskia’s face appeared in my mind. I shook my head, willing it away. No time for foolish daydreams now.
“Ready?” Lily said.
I unwrapped the iron from around my wrist, gritting my teeth at the sting as it pulled away from my flesh. Too tight. But it needed to be lately. I slid the iron carefully into my pocket, averting my eyes from Lily so I wouldn’t be distracted by anything I saw around her.
“Give me the chain.” I held out my hand.
Lily dropped Ignatius’ chain into my palm, the links cool against my skin. It didn’t burn, so it definitely wasn’t iron. I backed away, until my back was pressed against the wall. Then I wrapped my hand around the chain, closed my eyes, and thought of Ignatius, conjured up the casual viciousness of him. The arrogance. The low rasp of his voice. Then I opened my senses to the visions.
Pain arced through my head as they sprang to life, stronger than ever. Flames. The City skyline glowing red against a night sky. Templars fighting Beasts in the street. Dead bodies. Screaming women. All the things I’d been seeing for weeks.
Not enough, Fen.
Ignatius. I brought him to mind, fighting the spiking throb in my temples as I fought the visions. Saw the pale gleam of long white hair falling around pale skin. The bright red blood on his hand as he’d wiped it earlier.
Ignatius Grey.
The visions whirled again, flaring brighter and faster, at first the same images and then, after a minute or two, a change. Ignatius again. The same as in the pack house. Ignatius on a throne. Ignatius victorious.
Hells and fucking damn. The pain redoubled as I focused. But the visions of Ignatius didn’t change, didn’t offer anything new.
Fuck.
I pushed away from the wall, staggering slightly as I reached into my pocket for my chain. I needed to tether the visions again, push them back before my head exploded. My hand shook as I withdrew the chain and it slipped through my fingers and fell to the carpet. I bent to retrieve it and the pain suddenly worsened, making me retch. I fought the nausea, fought to stay silent as the room swam around me.
“Here.” Lily’s voice beside me hurt my ears, but there was a soft clink as she reached for the chain.
“Hurry,” I managed to say before I clamped my mouth shut against another wave of nausea.
Her hand reached out, hit my arm, then slid down toward my wrist. But before she could wrap the iron into place, another vision exploded, arcing through me.
Not Ignatius.
Simon.
Simon standing with a vampire, a man with a horribly scarred face. Simon talking to him easily as they moved through what looked like a hospital ward.
What the fuck was Simon DuCaine doing with one of the Blood?
I couldn’t form the words through the pain in my head, and then, as quickly as it had appeared, the vision slid away as Lily slipped my chain back into place and the iron bit into my skin like claws.
The pain receded under that touch, as did the dazzling spiral of visions, dulling to a manageable ache and the muted flames and blood I was used to.
I sucked in several heaving breaths, not quite willing to believe it was over.
“Fen?” Lily said softly. Her silver gray eyes were worried. “What did you see?”
Lily, I thought slowly. Simon’s fiancée. If Simon was involved in anything, she would know about it.
Lily the ex-assassin, I thought, slightly less slowly. Who might well kill me where I stood if she thought I was a threat to Simon. Not the woman to demand an explanation of.
I forced myself to a crouch and then, when the room kindly stopped spinning, stood.
“Nothing new,” I said roughly. “Give me the damned potion.”
Bryony was right about her potion. It worked. And it was dangerous. It didn’t just take away the pain; it replaced it with an almost reckless sense of well-being and power. I felt like I could tear down the walls of the warrens with my bare hands. Which, given that my mood was inclined in just that direction, was a delusion that could lead to disaster.
I leaned back against the wall of the tiny room, trying to convince myself that I wasn’t invincible. But my anger rumbled and prowled beneath the surface of hard-won reason, demanding satisfaction.
Maybe this was what Beasts felt like when they changed form.
All the
more reason to resist it.
“We should go soon,” Lily said. “They’ll be bringing her back to the salon.”
Her words echoed, seeming to bounce softly around my head as I struggled to focus. I needed to get to Saskia. No. Reggie. I was here for Reggie.
I shook my head, trying to clear it.
“Are you all right?” Lily moved closer.
“Yes.” I straightened, looked past Lily to the door. “Let’s go.”
I couldn’t see Reggie when I first walked into the room. There were about twenty Blood, along with an equal number of Beasts. The space was lit by candles hanging in glass lanterns and the flickering light made it difficult to see exactly how many people were scattered around the room, lolling on the low black couches. Here and there the filmy white tunics the Trusted wore stood out like beacons in the intimate dimness.
No sign of Reggie’s pale blond head. Anger surged again. Fine. If they wouldn’t produce her, perhaps I’d make them.
As I took one step forward, a hand clamped around my arm.
“And where do you think you’re going with that look on your face?” Willem said in a soft growl.
I tried to shake him off, but apparently Bryony’s potion didn’t confer superhuman strength despite how I felt. “I’m looking for Regina.”
“Seems to me you’re looking for trouble, puppy,” Willem said softly. His grip didn’t shift.
“I thought you were leaving.”
“Martin’s not done yet.” He inclined his head a little and I saw Martin and Alec seated on the far side of the room, conversing with another Beast. Martin held a hand of cards and there were coins scattered on the table in front of him. I could see only the back of the third Beast’s head. Brown hair. Which told me nothing.
I returned my gaze to Willem, baring my teeth a little. “Then why don’t you go back to him and leave me to my business?”
“Because I don’t want you going off half-cocked and causing a scene. Things are . . . delicate right now.”
“Well, now, I wouldn’t want to ruin your deal with Ignatius Grey,” I snarled.
