They rode in stony silence for the remainder of the trip. After what seemed like forever, they reached the gates of Wedley Manor. Dad rolled the window down and handed their IDs over without a word.
“You’re not on the list,” said the security guard.
“This visit is sanctioned by Agent Longhorn,” Dad said.
The security guard paged through the papers on his clipboard. “Ah, got you.” He handed their IDs back. “You can use the staff parking lot.”
“Thank you,” Dad said. The gates slid open, and they drove inside.
Aside from the grounds being muddier and the trees having lost their leaves, the prison still looked the same. They entered via a side entrance, using Dad’s ID to unlock the doors. Dad walked swiftly, and Nathan had to work to keep up. He still felt tired and drained, and he struggled up the two flights of stairs to Longhorn’s office.
His father paused in the top of the stairwell, his hand on the door handle. “Nate,” he started gruffly.
“Don’t fuck up?” Nathan guessed, unable to keep a bit of bitterness out of his tone.
“Language,” his father scolded. “But, yes, that’s the essence. I know you probably don’t think so, but the reputation of the family depends on all members toeing the line. Longhorn isn’t just the head of the Hunter Council. He’s also my boss. Your behaviour here will reflect on me.”
“I know that, Dad,” Nathan said tiredly. “I never set out to embarrass you or anything.”
His dad stared at him for a long moment. “…I know, but I also know that things don’t always work out the way we want them to, and sometimes it takes a lot of hard work to atone for that.” He squared his shoulders. “And that hard work starts now, understood?”
There were so many things Nathan wanted to say to that, but now wasn’t the time. “Fine, I’m ready.”
“Good.” Dad led the way to the office at the end of the hall. He knocked firmly.
“Come in.”
They entered a spartanly furnished office. The furniture hadn’t been updated in several decades. Old school filing cabinets lined one wall.
“Ah, Benjamin, Nathan, thank you for coming,” said Agent Longhorn, standing up from behind the desk. He was wearing a navy suit that looked like it cost the same as Nathan’s annual school fees. Longhorn’s dark hair was combed and gelled to perfection. This was not a man who got his hands dirty. Was this really the man who led an elite fighting squad against the supernatural? Had this man ever actually been in the field, got blood on his hands, been injured, seen comrades die? Or did he send other people out to do that for him?
Nathan pushed his ruminations away and shook Longhorn’s hand.
“Have a seat,” Longhorn said, gesturing to the sofa. “Can I offer you any tea or coffee?”
“Coffee, please,” Dad said.
Nathan would have liked to say ‘no’, so they could hurry this along, but he muttered, “Me too.”
Longhorn poked his head out the door for a moment, before returning.
“Stella will bring our drinks up,” he said as he sat in an armchair. He steepled his hands under his chin and regarded Nathan.
“Thank you for coming on short notice, Nathan. I hope you don’t mind; I know it’s a school day, but I’m sure you’ll agree that hunter business take precedence. Especially considering… recent events.”
Okay, what the hell was going on?
“Of course.” Nathan had to fight not to show his impatience. How long had it been since Cynthia had gone missing? Had Monica found anything yet? He wished Longhorn would hurry up.
“How are you doing?” Longhorn asked. “Forgive me for prying—I’m only going on what I’ve heard from your father and uncle—but you appear to have been struggling a little with balancing our lifestyle.”
Brilliant. Nathan darted a glance at his father, who managed to look both worried and stern at the same time. He gave Nathan a very pointed look.
“It’s been a bit rocky,” Nathan replied uneasily, “but I think I’m back on track now.”
“Any news on when you’ll go for initiations?” Longhorn asked. “I must confess, I have a vested interest in encouraging young trainees to go for initiations. We seem to be perpetually understaffed.” He chuckled. The wrongness struck Nathan again. Understaffed? Was that really what he wanted to call it? As though they were down a few nurses on an A&E nightshift? They needed people to initiate in order to fill the places of hunters who had died in service. That was no joking matter.
Nathan flicked his gaze to his father, but Dad’s face was like stone, giving nothing away.
“I… I wouldn’t want to go into the field before I’m ready,” Nathan managed. His head felt heavy and slow. “That would be a risk to the rest of my team… as well as myself.”
“A very sensible attitude,” Longhorn said. Someone knocked on the door and he called, “Come in!”
A woman in uniform stepped in. Nathan thought she was maybe ten years older than he was, and she had a couple of stripes on her jacket, but not nearly as many as his father had earned. She was a field hunter, then.
She brought a tray over to the table, passing a mug to each of them.
“Anything else I can get you, Sir?”
“No thank you, Stella.” Longhorn waited until the woman was out of the office again, and the door had shut behind her, then he turned to Nathan. “I’ll jump right in, then. Your father tells me that you have managed to acquire unusual connections with the Vampire Council.”
What?
Nathan glanced at his father, confused.
“I had to report our visit to the prison,” his father said. “Standard protocol, Nathan.”
“Oh, okay.”
“Could you elaborate on how this came about?” Longhorn requested.
Nathan fiddled with the handle of his coffee cup. Something felt off, but he couldn’t have said whether it was a genuine feeling or just paranoia born of tiredness. Longhorn was scrutinising him closely, making Nathan feel rather uncomfortable.
“I have a friend who’s a witch,” Nathan said hesitantly. He glanced at his father, who nodded grimly. “She’s the… ward of Jeremiah.” He caught the flash of disappointment on Longhorn’s face and stopped.
“It’s not because of your uncle, then?” Longhorn sounded almost eager. “I understood that he was… in the employ of Damien.”
“Well, yes,” Nathan said, “but Damien’s not on the Council. And Monica, my witch friend, is the one who asked Jeremiah to… protect me?” Was that the right word? “Well, she petitioned on my behalf, anyway,” he added. “Although I hadn’t met Jeremiah at that point. It was Adrian who got me into the prison, these last few times.”
“Fascinating,” Longhorn drawled. Nathan didn’t really see what was so fascinating. “You know, Nathan, we’ve been trying to get hunters into the prison on business pretty much since the inception of the Council, and yet in at least ninety percent of cases they refuse. You’ve been there… twice?”
“Three times,” Nathan corrected.
“Three times in the last few weeks,” Longhorn said. “All unsanctioned visits, and yet you’ve never been turned away. How did you do it?”
“I’m really not sure, to be honest,” Nathan said. He was starting to get a little frustrated. Did he really have to come all the way here to have this conversation? They were going nowhere.
“You didn’t make a deal with them?” Longhorn asked.
“No,” Nathan said irritably, “I know better than to make deals with vampires.”
His father made a noise under his breath. Nathan hastily reined in his temper. “Sorry, I’d really love to explain it to you, but I think maybe I just have good friends.” He picked up his cup of coffee and took a big sip.
“Of course,” Longhorn said. “I’m not implying that you would make deals with vampires. I’m simply… trying to understand how this situation came about, and whether we can take advantage of it for the good of the Hunter Counc
il. After all, I think the present situation has demonstrated that we are nowhere near where we need to be in terms of communication.”
“Right.” Nathan sipped his coffee again and tried to think of a way to close this discussion so he could get back to Oxford. “Well, I supposed I could write down everything I remember of the interactions, so that you could see if there’s anything I missed?”
“That would be good going forwards,” Longhorn said. “As for Damien—you are familiar with him, right?”
Damn, Longhorn wouldn’t take a hint.
“I suppose,” Nathan said. “We’ve met a few times, although I know his daughter better.”
“Ah yes. How would you assess her threat level?”
“Who, Lily?” Nathan asked incredulously. “Uh, I don’t think she’s a threat. Why?”
“But Damien would go to quite some lengths to protect her, right?”
Nathan glanced at his father, but he looked baffled by the turn the conversation had taken, too.
“Uh, probably,” Nathan said. “It’s hard for me to say. I really don’t know Damien that well.” He shifted uncomfortably. “I don’t understand how this is… relevant to the Council?” It felt more like he was being interrogated about his friends.
“This is invaluable information,” Longhorn said. “We’ve never been able to gain an insider perspective into the Vampire Council before.”
“Damien’s not on the Council, though.”
“Yes, yes, but we suspect he will be soon, and it’s better to be forewarned,” Longhorn said.
“Damien’s not really a politician. I doubt he’d want the Council position.”
“Nathan, I hope you’ll forgive me for disagreeing,” Longhorn said. “In my experience, all vampires want to expand their powerbase. I doubt Damien has any other reason for putting up with working for the Council.”
Nathan frowned. Longhorn looked straight at him, and he hastily covered the expression, but he wasn’t fast enough.
“You seem distracted,” Longhorn said.
Crap!
Nathan glanced at his father, who looked displeased. No help there. Thinking fast, he said, “I’m sorry. It’s the Sahir—we think they might be behind the disappearance of one of my friends. I understand that this is important, though. Better communication between the Councils could lead to situations like the one with the Sahir being avoided entirely in future.”
Nathan tensed, certain he’d just put his foot in it. Longhorn nodded benevolently.
“Of course, I understand that would be quite worrying for you.” He smiled affably. “Benjamin, you should have told me—I’d have postponed this meeting!”
“Hunter business comes first,” Dad replied.
“Ah, but even we didn’t think that when we were eighteen,” Longhorn said cheerfully. “Well, Nathan, finish your coffee and I’ll let you get off. I’m sure you must be quite worried about your uncle.”
Nathan froze, his cup halfway to his mouth. Come again?
“Wait, what?” Nathan asked. “I never mentioned Adrian—it’s Cynthia who’s missing—how did you know Adrian was missing?”
Suddenly, the pieces fell into place.
“Of course,” Nathan continued grimly. “You have him.” He looked at his father, who looked horrified. “Did you know about this too?”
“No!” Dad said indignantly. “What is the meaning of this? Adrian’s continued existence is the business of the Delacroix family alone. He’s not in violation of Council law.”
That was probably a lie. Nathan was pretty sure Adrian had violated the laws a number of times. Not that that was important right now. He put his coffee cup down and rounded on Longhorn.
“Where is he?”
“Nathan, don’t you think you’re jumping to conclusions here?” Longhorn asked in reasonable tone.
“No,” Nathan said. “Not really. Because there’s no way you could have known Adrian was missing unless you orchestrated it. I only found out this morning, and I doubt Damien told you.” He scowled and added, “And now that I think about it, it’s a little too coincidental that you wanted me here right now. Almost as though something important was happening in Oxford and you didn’t want me finding out… and telling the Vampire Council, right?”
It was a leap of logic, but looking into Longhorn’s face, Nathan knew he was right. Longhorn’s expression was grim.
“Where is he?” Nathan asked. “Is he being held here?” This was the only facility he knew of that could hold a vampire.
Several emotions ran across Longhorn’s face in quick succession, before finally he said, “I was hoping you wouldn’t find out. Your uncle was found in violation of Council law, and we took him into custody on Saturday.”
“What law did he break?”
“He attacked a pedestrian in the city—luckily Damien was there and could control him and compel passers-by, or we would have had a serious security breach on our hands.”
“Damien can’t compel people,” Nathan said quietly.
“Every vampire can compel people, Nathan,” Longhorn said in a patronising tone.
“Every vampire except Damien,” Nathan said with conviction. “And Lily. It’s a shame, really, because I’m guessing that if you got that wrong, the whole rest of the story was false, too.”
“Nathan, are you sure?” Dad asked.
“Positive,” Nathan said. “But if you don’t believe me, I can call Lily for you. She’ll corroborate.”
Dad was silent for a long moment. Nathan held his breath. If there was one moment in his life that he really needed his dad on his side, this was it.
“No,” Dad said finally, “That won’t be necessary.” He turned to Longhorn. “Is Adrian being held here? I think we should hear the story for ourselves.”
Longhorn gritted his teeth but nodded sharply. “It doesn’t matter. I can take you to him, but you won’t be able to free him from this facility, and even if you did, he’s been here close to three days. By now, the human blood has left his system. He won’t be able to leave during daylight hours without burning to death.”
Nathan felt sick to his stomach. He glanced at his father and was gratified to see that he didn’t look any happier. Maybe Dad did hate Adrian, but that didn’t mean he wanted his brother to suffer.
Longhorn stood and collected his jacket from his desk chair. “Shall we?”
“Please,” Dad said.
They descended the stairs in an uncomfortable silence. Nathan’s tiredness had vanished, and his thoughts raced as he tried to fit the pieces together.
Longhorn had taken Adrian at the same time that Nathan had been put under a sleeping curse. Now Cynthia was missing. As soon as Nathan had woken up, Longhorn had lured him out of town with an excuse he had known Nathan’s father would fall for. There was no way that this was a coincidence. Something was going down in Oxford, and Longhorn had helped get two of them out of the way. Cynthia being kidnapped meant it had something to with the Sahir, which meant…
Longhorn was working with the Sahir.
Holy fuck.
They reached the first subterranean level, and Longhorn lead them through the corridors. The wards seemed to bother Nathan even more than they had last time. It was like an itch beneath his skin, an ache in his brain. Had he just forgotten how bad it was last time? Or were they affecting him worse? Was he just more sensitive because he’d spent so much time crafting wards lately?
Nathan guessed where Longhorn was leading them long before they got there. It was the prison cell where the almost-lucid feral had been held. Of course.
The corridor leading to the cell was as claustrophobic as it had been before. Their rapid footsteps echoed off the walls, making it seem as though their group was much bigger. They stopped in front of the warded doors, but Longhorn made no movement to open either of them. Instead, he turned to Nathan, but Nathan beat him to speaking.
“You’re working with the Sahir,” he said. “How long?”
Lon
ghorn seemed to be considering denying the accusation, but he finally said, “The Sahir have been in the city for a little over seven months now.”
“That long?” Nathan asked, shocked. That meant… they hadn’t arrived pursuing Cynthia and her family… which meant the attacks on Cynthia had been opportunistic.
“Yes, that long.” For the first time, Longhorn’s affable façade cracked, and his voice took on a mocking tone. “They have eliminated a number of high-profile targets of ours, without the Hunter Council having to get their hands dirty. Of course, it’s unsavoury to collaborate with witches, but in the long run this will help us achieve our goals.”
Nathan honestly couldn’t care less about his justification. “You’re the reason the Vampire Council didn’t know about the other bodies,” he said.
“How do you know about that?” Dad asked, but Nathan didn’t have time to explain now.
“You’ve been sweeping things under the carpet,” he told Longhorn. “Ironic, that’s exactly what everyone accuses the vampires of doing.” He turned to his father. “We have to warn the others.”
“Yes,” Dad agreed to Nathan’s surprise, but before he could pull his phone out, Longhorn held up a hand.
“There’s no mobile phone reception down here.”
“Then we’ll go upstairs,” Nathan told him, already calculating in his mind whether he could get past Longhorn without resorting to physical force.
“I’m afraid you misunderstand me,” Longhorn said. “You won’t be going upstairs. Even now, there’s a team of hunters on standby to prevent you from leaving the basement, and even if you did manage to get out of here, your car has been put out of commission. You will not be leaving the premises.”
Dad bristled at that. “You can’t keep us here. We’re not criminals.”
“That’s where you’re wrong, Benjamin,” Longhorn replied, still in the same easy-going tone. “I can keep you here, and I will keep you here.” He turned to Nathan. “I didn’t understand when they insisted I remove you from the city. What can you do, as an uninitiated hunter? But now I see. So many people willing to fight for you. It’s a mystery to me how you’ve managed it, an eighteen-year-old boy who’s failing maths.”
Wicked Magic Page 29
