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Authors: M.J. Scott

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BOOK: Blood Kin
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It all twisted around and around in my mind until eventually I fell into a troubled sleep.

Next thing I knew, someone was shaking me awake.

“Wake up,” an irritated male voice said.

Fen? For a moment I thought I was dreaming. But no, when I opened my eyes, there he was in all his rumpled glory. Coat wrinkled. Hair wild. Expression a cross between worry and irritation.

Shadows smudged the skin beneath his eyes. I wondered if he’d had a vision. I snuck a glance toward his wrist. The chain was there, its dull black loops not really hiding the bruises beneath. I hid a wince.

“What are you doing here?” Fen had a certain notoriety. Even if the humans wouldn’t necessarily know him, some of the Fae who worked in the hospital surely would. If anyone saw him visiting me, it wouldn’t be all that difficult to connect the dots between us. Guy had discovered the truth about me, but I didn’t want everybody else here to know who I really was.

“You’re in trouble,” he said.

My heart slowed for a moment, giving one lurching thud as fear cooled my skin. I knew that tone. I rubbed my palms over the counterpane. “I’m fine.”

“Who broke your arm, Holly?” His eyes narrowed. “And why do they think your last name is Everton?” He tapped a finger on the neat label on the end of the bedstead.

I folded my arms as best I could with plaster encasing one of them and glared at him. “Mind your own business.”

“You are my business,” he said. “Particularly when Templar knights come snooping around after you. Who is that big blond one anyway?”

“He came to the Swallow?” Damn, I hadn’t imagined Guy had actually found my base. Not that it was likely that it was anyone at the Swallow who had ratted me out. “What did he want?” I wasn’t ready to tell Fen that Guy had found out who I was. That would only make him even more difficult to get rid of.

“He was looking for you, asking questions. Who is he?”

It was his “don’t make me find out for myself” tone. I wondered what exactly had passed between the two of them but knew better than to ask. No, my task here was to avoid admitting anything and getting Fen to leave the whole mess alone. He was prone to flights of disastrous impulse when he got the bit between his teeth.

“Would you believe my latest conquest?”

He studied me for a moment, green eyes opaque. “Perhaps. Still trouble, though.”

“Real trouble?” I asked. “Did you see something?” My stomach flipped. As much as Fen hated his visions, he was seldom wrong.

“A mess of stuff that didn’t make much sense,” Fen said after a pause. “Which worries me.”

“Why?”

“Because it means the future is messy too. Too many possibilities.”

My palms went damp. I ran them over the counterpane again, feeling the soft cotton nubs under my skin. It did nothing to soothe me. I had to swallow before I could speak. “What did you see?”

“You here,” he said. “That much was clear—and don’t think we won’t be discussing why you didn’t tell me when it happened—but then there was all sorts of things. An owl, which is you, I suppose. A key. Smashed mirrors. A weeping woman. Summerdale. And your big blond friend.”

“What was he doing?” We’d return to the Summerdale part in a minute. I hoped to hell Fen hadn’t seen me there. I definitely didn’t want to go to the Veiled Court.

“I saw him dancing with the owl. Bloody and alone with a sword. And I saw him watch the owl fall from the sky.”

“Did he catch it?” I tried not to shiver, throat tightening as fear chilled me. Fen’s visions always scared me, and this one didn’t sound good at all.

“I didn’t see. I saw you crying, though, weeping. Wearing black. It wasn’t a good vision, Holly. Whatever you’re up to, you should change your plans.”

“Believe me, I would if I could.”

“I could help you,” Fen said. “If you need to get out of here . . . or . . .”

He looked at me, waiting to see if I’d tell him what the hell was going on. I stayed silent. I would
not
involve him. The last thing Fen needed was my father deciding he was a problem. Fen was even more wary of the Veiled World than I was, not wanting to become a tool to some lordly Fae who forced his allegiance.

Besides, if this ended badly, Fen would make sure that Reggie and my mother were taken care of.

“Well, then, keep me in mind.” He reached into his jacket and pulled out a leather pouch. “I thought you might want these.” Then he nodded to a familiar carpetbag sitting near the wall. “And I brought you some clothes and things.”

I undid the complex knot holding the pouch together and peered inside. A small pile of charms nestled together atop a small cloth roll that held another set of my hairpin lock picks. “Fen, you’re a wonder.”

I didn’t ask myself how he knew exactly what I needed. And I was too pleased to take him to task for breaking into my rooms to get my things. No doubt, somewhere in the carpetbag there would be a leather sheath holding my spare cutthroat. Fen knew I used it for my charms, and if he was worried, he wouldn’t want me to be without a weapon.

But even as I relaxed a little as my fingers stirred the familiar shapes of the charms, another thought occurred to me. “I don’t want Reggie to know I’m here. I sent her a note, told her I had to go and see Mother. So don’t tell her anything, all right?”

Fen frowned. “I won’t. How long are they going to keep you here?” He didn’t bother asking what had happened again. He knew me better than that.

“I should be out in a few days.” Maybe sooner if Guy was actually serious about his crazy plan. “Don’t look so serious, Fen. I’m fine, really. Si—the healers have already fixed me. They’re only keeping me here to convalesce.”

But Fen wasn’t stupid. “Simon DuCaine healed you?”

“Yes. He works here, after all.”

Fen was scowling.

“What?” I asked.

“In my vision, the sun was shining some of the time, even though it was night. It was shining when I saw you crying. And here you are in the tender care of a sunmage. I don’t like this, Holly. You need to get away from here.”

I held up my arm in the cast. “I need to stay a few days. This is a haven, Fen. I’m perfectly safe.” I hoped it was true, but even if it wasn’t, I couldn’t leave. For one thing, I didn’t know if the geas would let me walk out of here.

His scowl didn’t change. “Remember those bodies dumped a few weeks ago? They were dumped right here.”

I ignored the sudden sour taste at the back of my mouth at the memory. Thirty-odd human bodies. Blood-locked killed by the Blood at Lucius’ order and dumped here in broad daylight by Beasts from the packs he commanded. “Outside, not inside. Even Lucius didn’t bring his fight inside a Haven.”

“You’re assuming that someone from the outside is what you have to worry about.”

“Are you telling me it’s not? How do you know? You saw me crying, not hurt.”

“I know you’d be safer elsewhere.”

I worked hard to keep my expression unconcerned. I knew well enough that I should heed any warning Fen had to give. But I couldn’t leave the hospital. And he couldn’t know why.

“I don’t have to stay here too much longer, Fen.”

He pursed his lips, tugged irritably at the starched white collar of his shirt, but eventually his expression eased a little. “Is there anything else you need?”

I shook my head. “Just let Reggie know I’ll be away a few days. Make sure she doesn’t worry. Ask her to visit Mama for me.” My mother. A fresh spurt of fury at my father ran through me. I was stuck here, neglecting the people I cared about, the ones who had nothing to do with politics and intrigue, all so my bastard father could play one of his dirty little games.

For a moment, the urge to ask Fen what he knew about bindings made the tip of my tongue tingle. I had to clench my teeth to make sure I didn’t. I desperately wanted to be free of the geas and to spike my father’s guns if I could, but this wasn’t the way. Raising the subject of a geas out of nowhere would be a guaranteed way to make sure that Fen didn’t leave until he had the truth—or as much of it as the geas would let me tell—out of me.

“It’s just a few days, I promise,” I managed when I had myself back under control.

Fen nodded, pushing at the hair that fell into his face with a frustrated flick of his hand. “All right. But any longer than that and I’m coming to get you.”

“Thank you,” I said.

“This doesn’t mean we’re not going to talk about how you ended up in here,” he said as he stood, smoothing his coat with irritated strokes, eyes intent.

“And that doesn’t mean that I’m going to tell you anything other than to mind your own business.”

Chapter Six

HOLLY

After
allowing myself a moment of “why me?” in which the urge to pull the counterpane over my head and pretend that the world outside didn’t exist rolled over me with a vengeance, I climbed out of bed and fetched the bag of clothing Fen had left. I pulled out the selection of clothes Fen had picked for me, suddenly overcome by the desire to wear something that was mine.

Maybe dressing would make me feel more like myself, let me get a grip on the situation. But by the time I had laid out several dresses, I found myself unable to choose and reached instead for the leather pouch, wanting to run the charms through my fingers again, the spark of magic within them and their smooth surfaces strangely comforting. I had barely untied the carefully knotted thongs when the door opened again. I shoved the pouch of charms deep into the bag.

I was proving terribly popular today. More’s the pity.

I turned to find Simon watching me with a strange expression. Hells. Had Guy told him about me? Was I about to get thrown out on my ear?

“Hello,” I said with a smile. Play the happy, compliant patient. That was the key. Nothing to arouse his suspicions at all.

“How are you feeling?” he asked.

“A little better.” So far so good. No “leave this hospital Night World spy.” I lifted the bag down off the bed before Simon could offer to do it for me and pushed it under the bedstead with my foot.

“Is it time for more poking and prodding?” I flashed that innocent smile again and, thankfully, received one in return.

“Just a bit,” he said. “Why don’t you lie down?”

I obeyed, trying not to let relief spill onto my face. Instead, I focused on Simon, studying him as he moved his hands gently over my arm. There was something different about him today. I closed my eyes, trying to work out what. Over the last day or so, I’d gotten use to the feel of his magic spreading from him. A warm radiant glow like a welcoming fire or a sheltered patch of sunlight on a cool day. Different than how a Fae or Beast felt. But today there was something unfamiliar about that glow . . . something slightly off.

I let my senses reach out.

There.

About halfway down his body. Oddness, like a dissonant note in a song. A little chill spot. That felt . . . like Fae magic. A charm. A very familiar feeling charm at that.

I frowned. What need did Simon DuCaine have for an invisibility charm within the walls of St. Giles?

“Sorry, did that hurt?” Simon said.

I smoothed my expression, opened my eyes, winced at the light. “No. I was thinking of something else.”

“Nothing bad, I hope.”

I summoned a smile. “No, nothing bad.” At least, not from my father’s point of view. This was the clue I’d been looking for. Something to work with, to maybe lead me to the answers I sought. The clue that might bring trouble and pain to this man who had, if not saved my life, then patched me back together. Brother to the man who kissed so dangerously and knew my secrets. It left a bitter taste in my mouth. “Just woolgathering.”

I wished it were true.

But I’d learned a long time ago that wishing for something didn’t help.

“You’re doing fine,” Simon said. “I’ll keep you here another few days, but after that, you’ll be free to go.”

“Oh. Good,” I said. Not good. Once I left the hospital, my main opportunity to discover Simon’s secret would be gone. Guy would, no doubt, be watching closely to see what I did if I left.

“Are you sure you don’t want to tell us what happened?” Simon said as he straightened. He asked me the same question every time he saw me. “I don’t want to send you home into any danger.”

If only he knew.

“There’s nothing to worry about. I’ll be perfectly all right.”

Just as well I was only half Fae. A true Fae would have been undone by the tower of lies I was piling up.
Who would you prefer to betray today, Holly? Simon? Your father? Or yourself perhaps?

If I had to choose one of those three, it would be Cormen. Problem was, to do that, I needed to break the geas. Which I had no idea how to do. “To tell you the truth, I’ll be glad to get back to work.”

Simon looked slightly taken aback. “Has there been something amiss here at the hospital?”

“Oh no.” I summoned my best polite young lady tone again. If I only had a few days, then I needed to get on with the task at hand. I needed out of this room. “It’s only that being stuck in this room all day is a little . . . boring.”

“Ah. You must be feeling better.” He smiled approvingly. “I’m satisfied with your internal injuries, so as long as you’re careful with the arm and take things slowly, you can walk around a little. There’s a nice garden near the children’s wing.”

It wasn’t the garden I was interested in, but I nodded politely, delighted with the prospect of being able to get to work. My gut told me that whatever secret it was that Simon was keeping, it most likely involved the hospital. I couldn’t see him sneaking around embroiled in political plots that took him far from his work.

“That sounds lovely,” I said.

“Good. Any of the nurses or orderlies can direct you. There are a few places to avoid, but they’re all clearly marked. You don’t want to pick up an infection and have to stay here longer.”

No, I didn’t. But I imagined I was going to have to go some places I wasn’t supposed to be. Hopefully the charms Fen had brought would prove helpful. Using them in a hospital full of Fae was risky, but I was confident in my work. I’d always been able to make my charms near undetectable. Even to powerful Fae who could make charms as slick as the one Simon carried. I couldn’t see it with my eyes at all, even though I sensed it. To someone without my gift it would be as invisible as it rendered the person carrying it.

Whoever made it had done a good job. And I wanted to know what Simon was using it for. But first things first. Wait for him to leave, inspect my charms, and then see how much I could actually physically manage to do. The cast would hamper me somewhat—climbing would be out—but I was hoping I’d recovered enough of my strength to do some serious reconnoitering.

* * *

It was slow progress to find the garden. My legs, once I started moving, were surprisingly shaky. Simon had told me healing took energy, but the only thing I’d been doing besides sleeping was eating like a horse. Apparently I should’ve eaten like two horses.

It was frustrating. It takes strength and stamina to spy, to wait patiently for an opportunity to overhear the perfect piece of information. I was no good to anyone if I couldn’t walk the hospital corridors without needing to pause every fifty feet or so and wait for my heart to stop pounding.

I eventually reached my destination. Nothing I saw on the journey gave me any clues as to what Simon might be doing with an invisibility charm. As far as I could tell, the rooms I passed were wards or offices or examination rooms. No one had been kind enough to leave a sign pointing to the secret Simon was hiding.

I couldn’t even sense any trace of his charm amongst the general low-level aftertaste of Fae magic that permeated the corridors.

I passed quite a few Fae as I walked, most of them in healer green. None of them went out of their way to speak to me, but no one turned away either. Apparently the Fae who worked here at least knew how to pretend not to share the general Fae prejudices. I hadn’t reworked the glamour on my hair. I didn’t see the point when I’d already been revealed as half Fae, so any of them would be able to see the lines of my heritage clearly. My pendant was firmly tucked beneath the high neck of the dress I wore, though.

The garden lay between two of the hospital buildings, set to catch the morning sun and provide shade later in the day, sheltered from the wind by the white marble walls. A large expanse of lawn was edged with benches and there were some toys—raggedy dolls and a few wooden blocks—lying abandoned on the grass.

The air was warm and soft as I stepped into the space. Apparently the cold spell had passed while I’d been out of commission.

Bright flowers filled the flower beds enclosing the grass. Near one of them knelt a slim woman with red hair caught up in a knot of braids, digging in the earth with a small fork. A flat basket of small green plants rested beside her.

As I stepped onto the grass, she swung around, her reaction a little too fast to be human. And a little too cautious for your average gardener. Not to mention a human wouldn’t have heard my careful footsteps.

As our eyes met, I saw her make an effort to relax her alert stance a little. Obviously I didn’t appear to be a threat. Maybe it was the cast. But even as she eased down, her eyes tracked me as I looked around the space and then wandered across to a garden bench near her.

“Hello,” I said, taking a seat.

“Hello,” she said with a nod. She made no move to turn back to her planting.

“It’s a pretty day to be out,” I said, turning my face up to the sun and closing my eyes for a moment. Best to appear as nonthreatening as possible.

“Yes.”

I opened my eyes again, let myself release a pleased sigh before I smiled at her. I was half playing a part, but that didn’t alter the fact that the warmth of the sun and the soft air did feel lovely after being cooped up for so long. “I’ve been inside for a couple of days.”

She cocked her head, then nodded at my arm. “What happened?”

“Fell down some stairs.”

Her gaze sharpened. She wasn’t buying my story any more than Guy and Simon had. “I’ve fallen down some stairs in my time,” she said softly. She looked regretful for a moment. Then shook her head as if banishing a bad memory.

“Healer DuCaine mended my arm,” I said. “I’m fine now. I have to rest a few days until everything finishes healing.”

“Simon?” Her face brightened, her smile radiant.

The change was extraordinary and I suddenly realized who this must be. Lily. My hand curled around the top of the bench in sudden caution. Lucius’ assassin. Simon’s fiancée, if the rumors were true.

A
wraith
.

More dangerous than Guy, in her way. He might stop to consider the moral implications of killing me, but I didn’t think that Lily would pause for even a second to defend the man who put that expression on her face.

“Yes. He’s very good.” I fought the urge to flee, focusing on calming my speeding pulse. Wraiths couldn’t use their powers in daylight. She had no reason to suspect me of anything. I was safe.

She could still kill you with her gardening fork,
a part of my brain whispered.

And therefore I shouldn’t give her any reason to want to kill me. I straightened my shoulders and lowered the arm with the unwieldy cast into my lap. Look harmless, that was the idea.

“Do you work with Simon?” I asked, seeking confirmation that she was who I thought she was.

Her smile dimmed a little, her expression suddenly wary. Her eyes were gray. A deep clear gray like light reflecting off water or the early signs of a storm rising. I hoped I wasn’t about to find out just how stormy she could be as she studied me. This woman was a trained killer. No one to be taken lightly or trifled with. I needed my wits about me.

“I work here in the hospital,” she said neutrally. “Everyone knows Simon.”

Not volunteering information. Cautious. I should go slowly. Trouble was I was running out of time. Once I was discharged, finding what Cormen wanted would become that much harder. Of course, getting killed with a garden fork because I’d aroused the protective instincts of an assassin would also be counterproductive.

“He seems a very good healer.”

That warmed her smile again. “He’s one of the strongest sunmages in the City.”

“Are you a healer too?” She wore a pale green shirt with black linen trousers. The shirt wasn’t healer green, but close. The trousers were unusual for a woman, here in the human world. I wondered if Fen had packed any of mine. I hadn’t gotten that far in the bag before Simon had interrupted me.

“No. Just a gardener. Maybe an herbalist one day.”

Lucius’ executioner was now a gardener. Now, there was a difficult concept to wrap one’s brain around.

“It must be nice to be around all this every day. Those colors are lovely.” I pointed to where she was planting out pansies. The flowers were a bright purple, blending in with the others—lavender and pale violet—to make a sweep of color shading from dark to light in a graceful arc. “I work for a modiste,” I added. “I tend to notice colors. Did you design the bed?”

Her smile widened just a little, though her gray eyes still studied me carefully. There was tension in her shoulders, and her hand shifted on the handle of the fork, easing and tightening in nearly imperceptible movements. I wondered if she was uncomfortable making small talk or still just wary. I was good at reading people, but I couldn’t decide.

Which made sense. You didn’t do anything without thinking in the Night World. Not if you wanted to survive. Anyone who’d grown up in Lucius’ court would’ve learned to control their emotions and reactions as naturally as breathing.

“Yes, I designed it. I’m still learning.” She looked down at the flat basket, still half-full of plants waiting to be settled into the earth. “But thank you.”

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