Chaos Broken (14 page)

‘Isn't the question more: do I
want
to see your tits?' I said, but turned anyway. Cloete sat in the bath, knees drawn up and arms wrapped around them. She had dunked her hair in the water, and with it slicked back against her head she looked smaller.

‘I'm sorry about that client that got killed,' she said. ‘Reuben said she was your old teacher.'

The memory of Poulter dead on the floor of her greenhouse snagged in my chest like a fish hook, tearing a small, painful hole. ‘She didn't deserve what happened to her.'

‘The kid with the sword, was he the one who killed her?'

‘Most likely.' But I didn't want to involve Cloete in this mess any more than she had been. After all, it wasn't like we were getting paid. ‘I'll go to the City Watch tomorrow and talk to Caleb.'

Cloete rested her sharp chin against one knee. ‘You know, I remember you telling me about the tribes of nephilim who live in the Outlands.' She gave me a lopsided grin. ‘I thought you were making it up at first, or exaggerating. But after tonight, I guess I shouldn't have doubted you.'

‘Feel free to doubt me. I'm usually catastrophically wrong.'

Cloete picked up my scrubbing brush and began on her back and neck. ‘Why would Roman be meeting up with that Grigori priest?'

‘I don't know,' I said. ‘My best guess is that they've decided to reach out to the Grigori for some sort of peace agreement. Roman and Fowler always had a bond. Fowler was Roman's spiritual guide within the Order. And you can't start a war without talking to the enemy first. If the Grigori don't relinquish some of their control of the nephilim, this won't end well.' I shook my head. ‘I also get the distinct impression there's a few backroom deals Seth is trying to get going.'

‘That slimy jerk?' Cloete growled. ‘I hope he's not sniffing around you again.'

‘No.' I shook my head. ‘His interests lie elsewhere, as do mine.'

‘Good. Because if it was a choice between a freak winged nephilim, or that Reaper, my vote's for the winged freak.'

‘Nice to know.' I yawned. My brain had registered the hour and was trying to shut down.

Cloete put down the brush and motioned for a towel. I stood and the joints in my hip groaned, stiff and sore. I passed her the fresh towel, then turned back to my bathroom mirror where I stared blankly at my tired reflection, thinking about the ambush Kalin had devised. He'd known Poulter and Sabine from the school, but why involve me? The answer, I knew, had to lie with Seth. It reminded me I hadn't received a reply to my meeting request with him, and while that wasn't surprising, it was irritating as hell.

As Cloete splashed out of the bath, I began to pick eggshell out of my hair.

‘There's more Regulators on the streets than usual.' Cloete's voice was muffled as she towelled her short hair dry. ‘I've heard about nephilim gathering in taverns as well, instead of running their usual circuits patrolling for heretics.'

‘Really?' This was news to me and I resolved to start asking around. If something was going on with the nephilim in the Order, I wanted to know about it.

‘You want me to do some sniffing around?' Cloete asked. ‘See what's going on?'

I tried to remember if she had any contracts lined up for the week and felt depressed when I realised she didn't. All Runners got a base pay, but the real money was in bonuses from the jobs they took. The more dangerous the job, the bigger the bonus. That's why I loved jobs that sent me to the Outlands. I didn't see it as a dangerous place, but most Weald dwellers did. So it was a nice big pay packet for me and some sweet shopping on the side. But a base pay and no contracts meant more money going out of Blackgoat than was coming in. Knowing there was nothing I could do about that right now, I figured Cloete could at least keep an ear to the ground and see if a rampaging herd of nephilim were coming our way any time soon.

‘Probably a good idea,' I told her. In the mirror, I caught sight of her pulling on the oversized shirt I'd given her and turned around. ‘Ask the other Runners as well, see if they've heard or noticed anything.'

‘What do you think is going on?' Cloete tugged at the shirt, looking uncomfortable out of her leathers.

‘I don't know,' I replied. ‘But we need to get on top of this. If the Order is on the cusp of going tits up, we need to be prepared.'

‘Gottcha, boss.' Cloete gave me a smart salute. ‘I'm going to crash out downstairs.'

‘You can sleep in the bed,' I told her as I pulled the plug to empty the bath. After what we'd been rolling around in, a fresh bath was in order for me before bed.

‘No thanks. I snore,' Cloete replied as she padded out of the room.

‘Blankets in the hallway closet downstairs,' I called out.

Waiting for the bath to fill, I wondered if Cloete was staying to keep an eye on me. I'd been in enough trouble the past few years that I could understand why she'd think I needed it. I'd always held the opinion that I could take care of my own problems. But lately, the concept of family had been on my mind and I had begun to see that I needed those around me, very much.

Turning the taps off, I stepped into the bath with a sigh, my body relaxing. What I really had to do was talk to Seth. Whatever the relationship to Kalin, the kid had taken someone's life, tried to murder another and threatened to do the same to me. For that, he would pay, even if it meant I had to put a contract out on him myself.

***

The next morning I woke late to the sound of rain thundering on the roof. The morning air was freezing and I got out of bed reluctantly, pulling on a thick cotton dressing gown and shoving my feet into slippers. My brain registered the smell of fresh coffee and it took me a moment to recall Cloete had spent the night on my couch.

I walked into the kitchen to find Crowhurst standing over my range cooker, breaking eggs into a skillet. The smoky smell of bacon greeted me and my mouth started to water.

‘That smells delicious,' I said.

‘Fresh coffee on the table.' Crowhurst nodded towards my well-worn coffee pot sitting beside a small pitcher of milk.

‘Thanks.' I sat down and poured a cup. ‘Where's Cloete?'

‘She wanted to get home early this morning.' Crowhurst flipped an egg. ‘I thought I'd come on over and see how you were doing.'

‘Oh yeah? You don't need to give me the hard sell, Reuben.'

‘Hard sell?' Crowhurst lifted the skillet and took it over to the kitchen bench, where two plates sat waiting. ‘Not sure what you mean.'

‘I haven't changed my mind. I'll do the consultation with that writer, Roosen. I'm not blind to the fact we need the job.'

‘Oh. You mean
that
hard sell.' Crowhurst bought over the plates, brimming with breakfast deliciousness. ‘That's if Roosen still thinks he can work with you.'

‘I'll convince him.' I nearly went cross-eyed at the sight of the streaky bacon and eggs and I inhaled my first mouthful. ‘Are there any appointments today?'

‘None on the books so far,' Crowhurst said.

‘Maybe we're going to have to think outside the square for work.'

‘I'm open to any suggestions,' he said dryly.

‘How about we target large organisations and brainstorm what kind of service we could provide them with?' I suggested. ‘Or we could expand our operations to include other services. Or branch outside the city to the more regional areas.' I paused when I realised Crowhurst was just picking at his plate, a worried look sketched over his features.

‘What?' I put my fork down. ‘What's wrong now?'

‘Cloete told me about last night. Anything you want to tell me about it? Like why you headed out by yourself to meet with the latest crazy person? Why didn't you wait for someone to go with you?'

‘You weren't even around.' Something occurred to me and I sat back, folding my arms. ‘You know, I sent that message to your home. How did Cloete get it?'

Crowhurst flushed, suddenly very interested in his food. My mouth swung open. ‘Kianna's blessed tits. Are you two…an
item?'

‘I'm not here to talk about that,' Crowhurst said crossly.

‘How long has this been going on?'

‘Just drop it.'

I picked my fork up again. ‘Why? Are you ashamed of something?'

‘No.' The word was sharp and final. Crowhurst sipped his coffee, then said, ‘We've been seeing each other for nearly a season.'

‘That's a long time for you, isn't it?' I asked. ‘Thought you were a player, a romancer of women The Weald over?'

‘A man can change when he meets the right woman.'

‘You know she'll slice off your man-noodle if you cheat on her,' I said.

Crowhurst didn't even wince. ‘I wouldn't do that. And don't call the symbol of my manhood a noodle. It might hear you.'

‘She's part succubus. How can you even hold her interest?'

‘Well, there's this thing I do —'

‘I don't want to know!' I shrieked.

‘Your loss.'

I tried to imagine Crowhurst and Cloete together. Then I tried to banish that image, because it just didn't seem to fit. Nothing seemed to fit anymore. People were suddenly changing around me, and I couldn't keep up.

When breakfast was finished, I retreated upstairs to get changed, while Crowhurst cleaned the kitchen. After dressing in thick tweed trousers and wrenching on a corset the colour of bluebells, I thought about how Crowhurst was putting in a real effort to work with me and to pull us together as a team. It was kind of inspiring that he had that faith in me, and terrifying at the same time. I'd never really wanted that kind of responsibility before and I wasn't sure I wanted it now.

Downstairs, Crowhurst was waiting at the front door. ‘I know where Roosen will be now, if you're up for some grovelling.'

‘No sweat,' I said as I buckled on my work-belt and grabbed my cane from the umbrella stand. ‘I just need to make a quick stop first.'

‘Where?'

‘You'll see.'

When Seth had been a Captain of the City Watch, he'd lived in a nice town house on Gilsen Street. After he'd stepped down from that role, I'd heard he'd moved into High Town. I'd never bothered to check it out because: a) Seth was a bastard, and b) travelling through the pristine streets of High Town made me feel like a filthy beggar.

Located in the elevated north of the city, High Town was full Harken's elite, who didn't mind reminding you of your place if you darkened their doorways. But now I had to talk to Seth, to try to connect the dots. That was why half an hour later, Crowhurst and I stood staring outside the gates of Seth's new home. The house was a sprawling monolith with a domed white roof and a wide staircase that led up to a front door that appeared to have been built for a giant. The driveway was a sweep of sparkling white pebbles and various sections of lawn had elaborate fountains sprinkling water that looked cleaner than the kind I drank.

‘Are you sure this is where he lives?' Crowhurst asked.

I nodded at the patrolling sentries with dogs. ‘The guards have Reaper tattoos. So I'm pretty sure.'

‘Why would Seth buy a place like this?' Crowhurst shook his head. ‘It's…' he groped for the right word.

‘Bloated?' I watched the dog patrols head towards the far end of the property. ‘Grotesquely opulent?'

‘Please tell me we have an appointment,' Crowhurst murmured as we approached a sentry box.

‘Sort of.'

‘What do you mean, sort of? Either you have an appointment, or you don't. Otherwise, I don't think we're getting in here.'

I shushed Crowhurst and strolled over to a guard in a sentry box, sitting by the front gates. I threw him some dimples. ‘Hello. Can you let Seth know that Lora Blackgoat is here to see him? I sent a message earlier.'

The guard, a large man in a stiff black uniform and cloth cap, stared at me from his seated position. ‘No.'

I hesitated. ‘Are you sure I'm not on some list or something?'

‘No.'

‘
No
, you're not sure, or
no
, there's no list?'

‘No.'

‘Lora, let's just go.' Crowhurst put a hand on my arm. ‘It's best if we go through the proper channels. I'll arrange an appointment between the two of you or something.'

I shook him off. ‘I'm not going anywhere until I see him.'

‘What does it matter? I thought you were done with Seth,' Crowhurst hissed.

My eyes cut to the guard. ‘It's a personal matter.'

‘No,' the guard said.

‘No,' I repeated.

‘That's right.' The guard leant forward, his breath foul. ‘No.'

‘You say no again and I'm gonna bust your nose.'

The guard stepped out of the sentry box, shoulders wide enough that he had to shift sideways to clear the doorway. One hand rested on the wheellock holstered at his waist.

‘
No
.'

‘Lora,' Crowhurst warned.

‘I know who attacked me last night and who killed Poulter,' I said to Crowhurst, not turning from my staring competition with the guard.

‘I'm almost afraid to ask, but who?' Crowhurst said.

‘A kid called Kalin.' I spread my feet, ensuring my footing. ‘There's a very strong possibility he's Seth's bastard son. I've got a feeling Kalin's trying to get daddy's attention.'

‘Seth has a son?' Crowhurst breathed. ‘Are you sure?'

‘Pretty sure.'

‘You ain't seeing the boss.' The guard rolled his sleeves up, revealing a scythe tattoo on his forearm. ‘Now get lost.'

‘Yes. I am seeing your boss,' I murmured, then ducked when the guard swung a fist at me. I swung my cane up and cracked him on the bridge of his nose with the carved goat-head top. The guard gave a howl as blood spurted out, and he lunged for me. But Crowhurst came up behind him, slamming the guard with a kidney punch that dropped him to the ground. I stuck my head inside the sentry box and pulled a lever that looked like it might open the gate, then backed up, scanning for any sign of reinforcements.