by Keri Arthur
“Help yourself.”
He did so. With gusto.
Once it was gone, I poured myself another whiskey, then tucked one leg under and sat down so that I was facing him. It put my shoulder a little too close to the tip of his sword; even though it was sheathed, it pulsed with an almost otherworldly power. Which, no doubt, was due to the fact it had a spirit locked within its steel.
I sipped my drink and then said, “You know, I might just do a little careful probing when I’m out with Tris tomorrow.”
“This is no game—”
“I’m well aware of that.” A hint of annoyance crept into my voice. “But if Tris is in any way involved in something shady with one of the heirs, I want to know how and why. Especially when my brother’s life might well be on the line.”
“As I said, it’s doubtful he’s in danger.”
“Which does not totally erase the possibility. My brother’s life is not something I’m willing to risk.” I took another drink and tried not to think about the task I’d just set myself. If Tris wasn’t involved, then my actions might well destroy a friendship I still valued. And if he was … I shoved the thought aside. I’d deal with that if and when it eventuated. “Now, as to the matter of you staying here—”
“That’s not open to negotiation, I’m afraid, if only because there’d be hell to pay with your grandmother if I allowed anything to happen to you while she was away.”
“My grandmother is well aware just how well I can protect—”
“Perhaps, but she told me to stay here and guard you, and that’s exactly what I intend to do. She’s not a fool. Nor, I believe, is her granddaughter.”
“Flattery is not going to win me over.”
“I’d be disappointed if it did.” He patted the sword lying on top of the sofa. “Hecate and I will ensure there are no further incursions.”
I blinked. “You named your sword after a mythological goddess of the underworld?”
“No. That was her name before she transgressed.”
“Can you and she communicate?”
“After a fashion. She is one of the older spirits, and her language is sometimes difficult to understand.”
“If she’s that old, why hasn’t her language evolved? She’s had the time to learn, hasn’t she?”
“Yes, but not the desire. She destroys demons because she must, but helpfulness in other ways isn’t always guaranteed.”
“I had no idea souls retained their personalities after death.”
“Only the very strong ones do.”
Which Hecate obviously was. “Has she always been constrained to this sword?”
“Yes. If a spirit blade is broken, the soul is destroyed. That is part of their penance for dealing with darkness. It’s also the reason so many of these swords survive—they have no desire to meet their ultimate end and will do all in their power to protect their casing.”
“Huh.” I downed my drink and then rose. “The sofa pulls out to a bed, and there’s pillows and blankets in the laundry cupboard downstairs. You’re welcome to help yourself to coffee and whatever food there is in the fridge.”
He nodded. “Sleep well.”
“Thank you.” I stepped over his legs and then went up to my room. And despite the fact I was inordinately aware of him moving around downstairs, I quickly fell asleep.
When I clattered back down the following morning, he was fully dressed and on the phone. I flicked on the kettle, then tossed a couple of slices of bread into the toaster, all the while pretending not to listen to his conversation even though my ears were flapping so hard it’s a wonder I didn’t take flight. Unfortunately, he hung up before I got much more than the fact there was another break-in at the King’s Tower, and a “meet you there in ten.”
“You’re off, I take it,” I said.
He nodded and rose. “There’s been more demon activity at the King’s Tower. I’ll be back tonight.”
“I’ve got a date, remember. I may not be back at all.”
He contemplated this for a second, his expression giving nothing away. “To reiterate, be careful. We have no idea what game Tristan Chen plays.”
“But at least I now know he is playing a game. That gives me an advantage.”
“Perhaps.” He picked Hecate up and slung her over his shoulder. The air shimmered briefly as she disappeared.
“How does that actually work?” I asked.
“How does what work?”
I waved a hand in the general direction of his shoulder. “The light covering your sword? I didn’t see or feel a spell—it just happened.”
He nodded. “I’ve been doing that sort of concealment for so long, it’s basically automatic.”
“But when you disappeared on King’s Island, there was no rush of magic either.”
“No, because what we do isn’t a spell, as such. It’s a manipulation of either light or darkness.”
“So why are you called Blackbirds when it’s light you seem to manipulate more?”
“That wasn’t always the case, and we weren’t always just the king’s guards.” He shrugged. “And the rest of your questions can wait. I really must be gone.”
Once he’d left, I ate my breakfast and then opened the shop. The rest of the day passed relatively quickly—while I wasn’t rushed off my feet, there was a steady trickle of customers, most of them purchasing Mo’s soaps, perfumes, and the occasional magical trinket. I closed at five, did the till, and then replenished everything for tomorrow’s trade.
Mo rang just on six.
“Has she woken yet?” I asked.
“Yes, but I’m up here for another night. They want to keep her in for another two days, so I’m waiting for her family to arrive and take over watch duty before I leave.”
“You think it’s possible she’s still a target?”
“Yes, as they didn’t get what they wanted.”
“Which was?”
“The Valeriun family bible.”
“Why in the hell are they after that?”
“Because Uhtric’s older sister—Rodella—married Marcus Valeriun and produced a son. She was widowed soon after, and subsequently married her second cousin—Phillip Aquitaine. Marcus’s family raised his boy, as Phillip refused to have the seed of another under his roof.”
“Doesn’t he sound like a charmer?”
“It was pretty commonplace in those days.”
Maybe, but that didn’t make it right or fair. “If they’re after the Valeriun family bible, it suggests Marcus’s son produced heirs that could hold a claim to the throne. I take it she hasn’t actually got the bible?”
“No, and neither do the Valeriuns.”
“So where is it? She must have some idea if she’s been researching them.”
“She said it was taken into safekeeping some years ago by a witch or witches unknown. She suspects it might be in one of the repositories.”
The back of my neck prickled. “There was another break-in at the King’s Tower this morning.”
“They were probably looking for the bible, but they wouldn’t have had any success. It’s not there.”
I frowned. “How can you be so sure? There were thousands of books in that damn place—you can’t know them all.”
“No, but a centuries-old family bible is pretty damn special, and not something I’d have missed.”
“Do we have one?” If we did, I’d certainly never seen it.
“No. It was destroyed long ago.”
“How?”
“Fire, I’m afraid.” I could almost see her shrug. “It happened just before the First World War and, by then, there were bigger things to worry about than replacing a family bible.”
“Shame.”
“Or, perhaps, fortunate, given everything else that’s happening at the moment. We don’t need demons, dark elves, and whoever else might be behind all this to be coming after another item.”
I frowned. “What I don’t get is, why would the dark elves eve
n be colluding with anyone? I mean, they’re powerful sorcerers in their own right—”
“Yes, but they’re restricted by their ability to only move in darkness. You’ll find human help behind all their past incursions.”
“Even the one that Uhtric stopped?”
“Indeed. In that case, it was one of his most valued advisors who betrayed him.”
“How come none of this stuff is ever mentioned in the history books?”
“Because history is invariably written by men who are more concerned about promoting the greatness of the victor.” She paused, and someone murmured in the background, though it was too soft for me to make out. “Jackie says it’s also possible that the bible is being kept in one of the Blackbird libraries. They’ve a long habit of collecting artifacts relevant to the throne.”
“And misplacing them, if a comment Luc made about the crown is anything to go by.”
“Well, if the Blackbirds don’t know where the real crown is, then it’s likely no others will—and right now, that’s a good thing.”
“Do they require the real crown to proceed with the coronation? Or will the replica do? It was the crown placed on Layton’s head, after all.”
She hesitated. “In all honesty, I don’t know, although there is far more to a coronation than just a crown.”
“Did you ask Jackie why she was tracing Okoros?”
“There was some theory that Marcus’s son married into the Okoro line.”
My gut clenched. “If that’s true, then Max, Gareth, and Henry just moved from indirect to direct heirs.”
“Except she didn’t get far enough into her research to uncover whether the theory held any truth.”
“Which just might be a good thing—if she’s uncertain about the link, maybe others will be too.”
“A fine theory if it wasn’t for the fact indirect heirs are being taken out. Someone obviously thinks they’re a danger.”
“A statement that does nothing to ease my fears.” I paused. “I gather Luc told you about the indirect heirs when you talked to him earlier?”
“Yes. And your brother is slipperier than a wet rat down a drainpipe.” Amusement edged her voice. “They won’t find him an easy target.”
That was certainly true enough. “Did you ring Gareth and Henry?”
“Yes, but I’m not sure they were convinced by my statement they needed to increase their personal protections for the next few weeks.”
“You didn’t tell them about heirs being killed?”
“I did. Not sure they believed that, either.”
Which pretty much summed the two of them up. If you couldn’t provide concrete evidence to back your claims, they remained skeptical.
“Given the bible seems to be the key here, I’ll mention it to Luc when I see him. He can contact his people and see if they’re holding it.”
“Are you staying overnight at Tris’s again?”
“How do you even know I’m going out with him tonight?”
She chuckled. “Because I’m an old woman who sees all.”
I snorted. “Right. And I don’t know.” I quickly told her what Luc had said. “I’m planning a little careful digging first, and I’ll get Ginny to read the current of his reactions for me.”
“If you’re interested in tracking his movements without him knowing, there’s a locator charm and receiver sitting in my knickers drawer.”
“Because where else would you keep such a thing.” My voice was dry, and she chuckled again.
“Given there’re few who’d want to go through an old lady’s knickers, there is no safer spot to keep valuables.”
Meaning there was probably a whole lot more tucked in that drawer than a simple locating charm. “How do I activate it, given I can’t do magic?”
“It is that sort of attitude that prevents you, you know.”
“Mo, you were the one who told me magic was not my forte.”
“And I dare say I had good reason at the time. Can’t remember it though.”
“Believing that.” Not. “How about you just answer the question?”
“Activation is simple—just pull the charm free of the casing and place it somewhere inconspicuous. The receiver has a range of a couple of kilometers.”
“How long will the signal last?”
“A couple of days, if we’re lucky. And it’s probably better to stick it in his car rather than on his person. I know that opens the possibility of losing him, but he might just sense its presence if it’s placed too close.”
And he probably would, given how familiar he was with Mo’s magic after all these years. “I might ask Ginny or Mia if they can look after the store for us tomorrow. That way, I can still tail him if you’re not back in time.”
“Okay, but don’t drive that car of yours when doing so. It’s far too noticeable.”
“I don’t need a car to follow someone.”
“No, but if he is involved in this damn mess, then he may well be on the lookout for blackbirds. Of course,” she added, “You can always ask Luc—”
“No, and stop it.”
She laughed. “Fine. But don’t be moaning to me about the lack of eligible men in Ainslyn any more. Even when a tasty morsel is shoved your way, you won’t bite.”
“Said morsel has shown absolutely no interest.” Which wasn’t exactly true, if the flash of heat I’d briefly glimpsed was anything to go by. “And now, I must be going. Talk later.”
I hung up on another laugh. I shook my head and then got ready for my date, settling on jeans, sensible shoes, and a fluffy mohair sweater. After grabbing the charm, my purse and a thick, warm coat, I called a cab and headed across to the Red Gryphon.
Ginny and Mia were already inside and waiting. I kissed them both on the cheek and then stripped off my coat and sat down opposite.
“So, what’s all this actually about?” Ginny interlaced her fingers and then leaned her chin on them. “Because we all know Tris would not have volunteered to pay for tonight’s meal.”
I hesitated as a waiter came over and took our drinks order. “I want an opinion.”
“On Tris?” Mia said. “Why?”
“He’s changed and I just—” I hesitated and then shrugged.
“You think he’s up to something,” Ginny said. It was a statement rather than a question.
“Yes, but I’m not sure what. I could be overreacting, but still—”
“Your vibes are telling me that statement is not something you believe,” Ginny said. “If that’s the case, why not just walk away? It’s not like you have an emotional connection. It’s just a sex thing.”
I smiled. “The sex thing is very good.”
“Obviously, given you’ve still got that ‘well sated’ glow happening.” Mia’s voice was dry. “Good sex is never worth losing good sense over, however.”
“Says the woman who spent five nights with Gerard Barker simply because her parents said he was an inept loser.” My tone echoed hers. “Which he was, by the way.”
“Yes, and this is why I can speak with such authority. Been there, done that, and it’s totally not worth the trouble.”
“This is a rather different situation.”
“Perhaps.” Ginny’s gaze flicked past me. “He’s here.”
“Color me surprised,” Mia muttered. “I felt sure he’d bunk out at the last moment again.”
“The meal hasn’t been eaten and paid for yet,” Ginny replied, and then flashed a bright smile. “Tris. Nice to see you again.”
“Ladies.” He dropped a kiss on my cheek, then pulled out the chair beside me. “Thanks for coming out on such a horrendous evening. You really shouldn’t have.”
Mia grinned. “Oh come on, it’s not often that Tristan Chen bankrolls a meal—”
“And it’s something you’d best not get used to,” he cut in equably. “The budget, by the way, does not stretch to lobster.”
“Which is out of season and not likely to be on the menu.” Ginny fla
shed a smile as the waiter returned with our drinks. Once Tris had ordered a beer, she added, “So what’s been happening since you left us?”
He shrugged. “Nothing much. Working for a specialist locksmith company and enjoying big city life.”
“And big city girls?” Mia asked, amused.
“Maybe one or two.”
“Oh yeah?” My voice held a teasing note. “I thought you said you were all alone and lonely?”
A smile twitched his lips. “I may have exaggerated.”
“So you are seeing someone,” Ginny said.
“We recently split, so no, I’m not.”
I shifted to look at him more fully. “Why did you split?”
He shrugged again. “Her parents didn’t approve.”
“Since when has that ever worried you?” I asked.
“It didn’t.” He studied me for a second, his expression … odd. “But I’m not the only one telling white lies when it comes to relationships.”
“Meaning what?”
“That I wasn’t the only man you saw last night.”
I blinked. “You were watching the shop?”
“No. I just happened to glance around as he entered.”
My gaze flickered to Ginny’s. She shook her head slightly. A lie. “That was a friend of Mo’s, not mine, and he damn well slept on the sofa.”
Tris held up his hands. “It doesn’t matter to me where he slept.”
Like hell it didn’t. But why? I doubted his reaction was in any way territorial; Tris had never been one to get jealous, even when we’d been an item. So maybe it was confirmation that Luc was right—Tris was using me as a means to gather information on my brother, and anyone else I might be seeing was simply a possible problem.
What we really needed to know was who was pulling Tris’s strings, and what did they want with my brother? Rather frustratingly, they were the two questions I couldn’t ask right now.
The conversation moved on, and in many ways, it felt like old times. But I couldn’t help noticing that, when it came to any real information about his life or his job, he remained vague. Which only increased my uneasiness.
His phone rang just as we finished our coffee; after glancing at the screen, he grimaced and said, “Sorry, I have to take this.”
