Blood Kin (23 page)

“There is that,” I agreed. “But we were talking about the Night World, not me.”

“We were.” She sighed. “A pity, really.” She slanted a glance at me with those very green eyes that made me wonder exactly what she meant. But I wasn’t about to ask.

“You’ll have noticed that Christophe Favreau’s box still has no sign of Christophe himself,” Holly continued.

I nodded. That much I had taken in while I’d been waiting for Holly to return.

“There is a Favreau here, though. In the box across from us. There are a number of Beasts. Do you see?” She waved her fan idly and smiled, as though we were discussing the weather.

I found the box she meant and the man. Light brown hair neatly tied back in a queue and pale eyes. Too far to see if they were gray without Holly’s opera glasses. His head was bent toward the blond man sitting beside him, discussing something with an intent expression. “Which one is he?” I asked.

“That’s Henri. He’s a
guerrier
, though a low-ranked one.”

“If he’s a
guerrier
, why is he here when his alpha isn’t?”
Guerriers
were the pack warriors. And most often, their job was to guard the alpha.

“A good question,” Holly said. “He may merely have the night off.”

“Do
guerriers
get nights off?”

“Do Templars?” She arched a brow at me.

We did. Though in the current unrest, time off had been scarce.

“So you think he’s just out on the town?”

“Maybe. Though he keeps interesting company. That’s Antoine Delacroix he’s with.”

I knew that name . . . though I couldn’t quite remember why. The Delacroix pack was another that had been closely allied to Lord Lucius. Though, if I remembered rightly, Christophe Favreau and Paul Delacroix didn’t much like each other. “And Antoine is?”

“A troubled young man,” Holly said. “Very much out of favor with his pack right now. He narrowly avoided being cast out a while back. His father is a senior
guerrier
, which may have saved him.”

I turned my attention back to the two men. True, the younger Beasts did sometimes ignore pack boundaries while out carousing, but would a Favreau
guerrier
usually hang around with a member of another pack who was in disgrace? The packs didn’t poach from each other. A cast-out Beast would find no home with another clan. As I watched, the singer onstage reached a crescendo, and a wave of applause echoed around the theater. Henri raised his head and our eyes met. His brows drew down before his face smoothed and he moved his gaze away.

I made myself focus back on the stage, trying to look interested in the caterwauling of the soprano. Something about Henri set my teeth on edge. But this wasn’t the place to try and discuss how we might learn more about him. That could wait until we were somewhere more private.

“So, do the Favreaus support anyone in particular? Do they have a favorite candidate for Blood Lord?” I asked. The soprano hit one last high note and the crowd broke into more rapturous applause. Holly clapped politely and I followed her example. The orchestra struck up again and a group of acrobats tumbled onto the stage.

“No. Not that I’ve heard. They gained a lot under Lucius. I’d think they’d be looking to support someone who wanted to keep the status quo. One of Lucius’ lieutenants.”

“Like Ignatius Grey?”

Her face went carefully blank. “Ignatius was one of Lucius’ circle, yes. But Christophe doesn’t like him.”

“Can he afford to dislike Ignatius? From all I’ve heard, Grey is doing well for himself. And he’s captured your Lady Adeline’s attention, it seems.”

I had heard a little of Lucius’ court from Lily. She didn’t like to talk about him and I’d only managed to coax information out of her a few times. Ignatius’ name had come up more than once. Lily despised him. She’d once said he was as vicious as Lucius but not nearly as clever. Not someone you wanted in control of the Blood. It took an iron fist and a keen mind to hold the Blood Court together.

Holly shrugged. “As Adeline said, Ignatius bears watching. And any smart alpha will be hedging his bets right now.”

“Any idea what his views on the treaties are?”

“Ignatius or Christophe?”

I held out a hand, trying not to look at the tattoo snarling at me. “It’s not exactly a secret that Lucius would’ve been happy for us to return to the old days.” Where the Blood could feed at will and had come close to enslaving the humans entirely. “Does Ignatius share his politics?”

“I don’t know,” Holly said, biting her lip. “No one who was trying for such a thing would talk about it.”

“And Lady Adeline?”

“Adeline has always been . . . courteous to me. Don’t get me wrong, she’s Blood, but I can’t imagine her wanting to return to a dog-eat-dog world. She’s too fond of her comforts.”

“So you trust her?”

“Trust might be too strong a word. But she’s definitely not on Ignatius’ side.”

“I see.” My head was throbbing dully. Too many threads to try and pull together. The noise of the orchestra and the audience grated on my nerves. “What about the man you asked her about . . . Cormen, was it? Who’s he? A Fae?”

Her face returned to that careful stillness. “Yes, he’s Fae.” Her voice sounded slightly hoarse and she didn’t say anything else. Instead she looked down at her hands where they’d twisted together in her lap.

Nervous? Or no, not nervous.
Scared
. A connection finally clicked into place. “Wait. Is he the one you think took your mother and your friend?”

She nodded slowly. “Maybe. Yes.”

“Why? What does he want?”

She flinched. “I’m not sure. Not yet.” Her voice still sounded rough, as if she’d been shouting. Which she hadn’t.

“Do you need a drink?” I looked across to where our abandoned bottle of champagne sat in a bucket of half-melted ice.

“No. No, I’m all right.”

She didn’t sound convincing. She’d turned pale. Too pale. Maybe I wasn’t the only one who needed rest. I suddenly remembered that I’d dragged her out of St. Giles too soon.

“Do you want to leave? How long does this thing go on for anyway?”

“A few more hours,” she said, sounding slightly more normal. “We can’t leave until interval at the earliest. It would be very bad form.”

I shrugged, an escape plan forming rapidly in my head. There was information to be learned here at the Gilt, but I knew when to retreat so as to refine a strategy.

“Guy, I was serious,” she said. “If we go, everyone will notice.”

“Isn’t that half the purpose of us being here? To be seen.”

“To be seen, not cause a scene,” she retorted.

“Darlin’, no one expects a drunken, lustful ex-Templar to behave.” And before she could protest, I bent, scooped her up in my arms, kissed her soundly when she gave a surprised shriek of protest, paused so that everyone could turn and see exactly who was interrupting the show, then swept her out of the box.

* * *

Holly was still giggling when I put her down, finding myself strangely reluctant to let go as she found her balance. So I offered her my arm as we walked down the steps toward the street.

The courtyard outside the Gilt was strangely quiet. It had bustled with ’cabs and hackneys and private carriages when we’d arrived. But, as Holly had pointed out, we were leaving early, so none of the drivers would be expecting customers just yet. The night air was warm, so it wouldn’t hurt to wait for a while.

“Told you we were early,” Holly said. As she spoke, I caught a movement out of the corner of my eye. A small red light flared in the darkness to the left of the stairs, and a waft of cigar smoke curled into the air.

Just a theater patron who’d stepped outside for some fresh air? Maybe. But I pulled Holly a little closer, and felt for the pistol at my hip.

Where were the damn ’cabs?

The smell of cigar grew stronger and then someone walked into the light, heading toward us. No, not someone. Henri Favreau. Holly went stiff beside me.

Henri smiled, too-white teeth flashing like knife blades. “Good evening,” he said. “Is the show not to your taste tonight?”

He was looking at Holly. Which didn’t ease my nerves any. She was the more vulnerable target.

“It wasn’t their finest production,” Holly said. Her voice was vaguely bored, a good imitation of a pampered society girl unimpressed with the entertainment on offer. She slipped her arm free of mine but didn’t move away.

“True,” Henri agreed. “But it’s always interesting what one can see at such things, isn’t it?”

“I guess.” Holly shrugged. “But if you’ll excuse us, we have another party to attend.”

Henri tossed his cigar down onto the stones, grinding it with his foot to extinguish the glowing end. “For instance,” he said as though Holly hadn’t spoken, “it’s very interesting to find a Templar at the Gilt.”

“I’m no Templar,” I said. I put a little growl into the words. A clear enough “back off” signal if he wasn’t a fool.

“A Templar only a few days clear of the order is still a Templar.” A second voice came from behind us. I twisted to see Antoine Delacroix standing a little above us on the stairs. Damn. I’d forgotten that Beasts move almost as soundlessly as Blood when they want to. I moved back a pace, taking Holly with me.

“Perhaps you shouldn’t be so quick to tell us that,” Antoine said easily. “After all, a Templar has protection. A curious disgraced knight, however . . .”

“I’m not curious,” I said flatly. “We came to see the show.”

Antoine tilted his head. “You were watching us, Templar.”

“Everyone watches everyone at the Gilt,” Holly said. Her voice was perfectly calm.

“Anyway, why should we watch you?” I said. If this was going to end badly, might as well make it quick. “Were you doing something noteworthy?”

Antoine bared his teeth.

“Not a smart place to start a fight,” I said to him. “There are plenty of people around.”

“Not near enough,” Antoine replied. A knife suddenly glinted in his hand. “It wouldn’t take long.”

The pistol appeared in my hand before I realized I’d drawn it. “Think you’re fast enough?” Beside me, Holly sucked in a breath and I saw the glint of metal in her hand too. The pistol she carried was smaller than mine, but it was pointed across me at Henri.

I hoped she had silver bullets.

Antoine had gone very still, but his knife was still held at the ready. Beasts are fast. He could throw it before either of us could react. I risked a quick glance at Henri. He looked worried. A smarter man than his companion, then.

“Do you think you’re fast enough to get both of us?” Antoine asked, his hand beginning to move.

“Maybe not,” I said. And I fired just as his fingers loosed the blade, sending it winging toward me. Antoine jerked backward and collapsed as the bullet tore into his chest. I threw myself into a crouch and the knife cut the air above my head before clattering to the cobbles. There was another shot and Henri yelped too. I didn’t stop to see what Holly had hit, simply fired another shot into Antoine’s knee, grabbed Holly’s arm, and started to run.

We ran for a block or so before it became clear no one was following us. Still, I maintained our speed, heading toward the nearest station, praying that a cab or hackney would come into sight soon.

Holly kept pace, her face grim. When a cab finally did rattle into view, the driver had barely pulled to a halt before I bundled Holly inside, climbed in after her, and yelled for the driver to get moving.

HOLLY

“I can’t believe you did that,” I said as the autocab jolted and hissed to a shuddering halt outside the Swallow. Beside me, Guy’s expression was alert but unworried. As if nothing had happened.

I shivered beneath my light wrap. Beasts. We’d shot two Beasts. There’d been silence between us during the journey here, both of us watching for pursuit. But now that we were safely back under the gas lamps outside the Swallow, I wanted to talk.

“It was us or them,” Guy said. “Besides, they’ll live. Antoine was still breathing. You didn’t kill Henri, did you?”

I shook my head as I shivered again. I’d never shot anyone before. Slashed a few with my razor to get out of a tight spot, but I’d never actually fired my pistol at someone and seen the bullet pierce flesh. “No,” I managed. “I hit his shoulder.”

Guy nodded. “Good. Then they’ve learned a lesson.” He opened the door and swung himself out of the ’cab.

“Or we’ve earned ourselves two enemies,” I muttered, but I let Guy help me out of the ’cab in turn and stood blinking and still shivering as he paid the driver.

“I have plenty of enemies,” Guy said easily. “Two more won’t hurt me.”

I wished I shared his confidence. I did my damned best to stay neutral. I didn’t go around shooting Beast Kind in broad moonlight. And we’d left them alive and knowing who we were.

“Let’s go inside,” I said. I wanted my rooms. My bed. My wards. Safety.

Guy’s arm came around me. “All right,” he said. “But smile, please. Or everyone will want to know what’s wrong.”

I summoned a smile from somewhere. “I just want to be in bed,” I said as we walked toward the Swallow.

“Hear, hear,” said Junker, from a few feet away where he stood at the main door. “You treat that boy right, Miss Holly.” He coughed, elbowed Benny beside him, and winked ostentatiously.