God Save the Queen (The Immortal Empire) (41 page)

I stared at him, unable to conceal my shock – and fear. I couldn’t even open my mouth. I knew now without a doubt that he had been involved in Duncan MacLaughlin’s death.

Church smiled – gently. “You should tell Ophelia to be more careful in her choice of bed partners.”

Her murdered human. Raj. Had he been a spy for Church?

“Why’d you kill him?” I asked. “If he was feeding you information, he was useful.”

“Did I say anything about killing him?” His eyes narrowed. “The good doctor and I had an agreement, but he had a crisis of loyalty and refused to tell me where Dede was. He also refused to give me further information on the leaders of the insurgents, such as where they hid when not in Bedlam. I decided to terminate our business arrangement after that.”

So he knew Bedlam was involved, but not that it was traitor HQ. And he knew that Dede was alive, but not where she was.
Good. My estranged family members were safe for now. At least I could tell Ophelia who had killed her lover. Maybe then she’d forgive me for almost killing her.

“It won’t look good for you or your alpha, fraternising with insurgents, Alexandra.”

Ah, so now he was going to use Vex to try to manipulate me. “It won’t look good for you, Church, when people see video of you dumping Simon’s body, or when they discover that the bullet that almost killed me came from your gun. I’m still the daughter of a peer.”

“When they find out you’re a goblin, they’ll hate you too much to care. I could have protected you from that. I still can.”

His words hurt – not just because they came from him, but because they were true. “And once it gets out that you’re experimenting on halvies, you’ll be arrested, peer or not. I took copies of your research.” Good of me to remind him of that.

“Ah yes, and sent them to …” He moved past me to check the machine. “Vexation MacLaughlin. Too bad about that.”

Ice formed in my stomach. I’d erased the transmission log, but not the last number called. “What do you mean?” Vex couldn’t be part of this. He just couldn’t.

Churchill removed his rotary from his inside coat pocket and dialled a single number before holding the device to his ear. “It’s me.” His cold grey gaze locked with mine. “Kill the wolf.”

Vex could not die. Not because of me.

“I wish it didn’t have to come to this,” Church lamented, tucking his rotary into his pocket once more. “But you give me no choice. I’m not going to let that bastard take what I’ve worked so hard for. What is mine.”

I was included in that. Bastard made me sound like a bloody possession, or a reward of some kind.

I dived for the door, but like any good opponent, Church saw that coming and put himself between me and escape. I barely had time to brace myself for the fist that flew towards me. It caught me on the jaw – the bone cracked from the impact. I flew back, but caught hold of a bookcase. It smashed to the floor, spilling leather-bound editions around me, but at least I was still upright.

My old mentor looked surprised. “Don’t fight me, Alexandra, you can’t best me. I’m a one-hundred-and-thirty-eight-year-old vampire who learned to fight a century before you were born. What are you?”

“Your best student,” I replied, savouring the taste of blood in my mouth as my throbbing jaw began to heal. “And one pissed-off goblin.”

He started at that, and I took the opportunity to launch myself at him, pulling my dagger free from my corset. As much as I wanted to pummel him into oblivion – and maybe rip out his throat – I didn’t have time for this shit. Vex was in danger. So when Church lifted his right hand to block me – meaning to strike with his dominant left – I veered to his right and came up under his elbow with a quick slash.

The ends of his cravat fell to the floor as crimson blossomed and bloomed against his snow-white collar. His eyes widened and his fingers wrapped around his throat. I hadn’t killed him – I would have to take his head clean off for that, and I hadn’t time. He hadn’t expected me to use a blade. He always taught us to use our bodies as weapons, and hadn’t known about my dagger. I wondered if perhaps my mother hadn’t feared something like this might happen when she gave it to me.

As he slumped to the floor, gurgling, I wiped the bloody blade on my trouser leg, shoved it back in my corset and took several
steps backwards. I cast the old man the briefest of glances as I took off at a run. Going through the house would take too long, and there was a chance I’d catch more trouble. Church had already cost me enough time. Instead, I hurtled through the right-hand window overlooking the street. Glass exploded around me, slicing at my clothes and skin, catching in my hair.

I expected to hit the cobblestones hard – and most likely with my head. I landed on my feet, in a crouch, just like in films.

Just like a goblin.

My skin stung where glass had pierced it, but I ignored it – it would heal soon enough. I took off running towards Curzon Street. Vex was either still at Chesterfield House or on his way home. I had to find him before Churchill’s men did.

I ran fast – faster than I’d ever imagined moving. If I thought about it, my feet tangled, so I stopped thinking and just ran. All that mattered was finding Vex. I passed carriages and cars. People yelled at me as I sped by, but I ignored them all.

On the corner of Charles and Curzon Streets I heard snarls and angry voices. I turned right and ran towards the sound. I knew it was Vex. His wolf spoke to that part of me that came from my mother’s altered blood. I made a noise low in my throat that came out as a loud growl. Fighting with Church hadn’t brought out my goblin side – only pissed it off – but it was here now, in gleeful anticipation of spilling blood.

Of protecting what I thought of as mine.

I didn’t fight it, I let it come. I wanted it to come. It didn’t hurt so much when my fangs broke through, thick and sharp. The claws stung, but I didn’t care. I could feel the bones of my face changing. My fractured jaw protested, but gave in, making room for my canine teeth.

It was five on one. Five young vampire and halvie combatants, armed to the teeth, against Vex, who had shifted into a form
somewhere between man and wolf. He should have looked hideous, but I thought he was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen – because he was still alive. A sixth attacker lay on the ground, dead. His throat had been ripped open.

Vex glanced at me as I came to his side. His eyes widened, but that was his only reaction. He knew me by scent, and I supposed he was more concerned with staying alive than with what I looked like.

How did Church plan to explain the death of the alpha? Murder was a serious offence, but killing the leader of the wolves would cost him his own life. I had no more time to think about it – thankfully – when one of the halvies charged me. She hesitated for a moment when she saw my face, and that was all the opening I needed. I jobbed her between the eyes, remembering at the last split second to hold back. I didn’t want to kill her, and there was a good chance I’d do just that if I hit her as hard as I could.

She went down with appalling ease for a halvie. If Church had trained this lot, the old man was losing his edge. Another halvie came for me and I knocked him down as well. It took a bit more effort, but not much. All I had to do was slam my skull against his and he crumpled like a puppet with its strings cut.

That left three vampires. I recognised them as lesser peers. One was the offspring of a baronet. Another was a baroness, and the third was the son of a viscount. Part of Churchill’s plan for aristos to aspire to be the “glorious” creatures they used to be?

Given the dead body already on the ground, I knew Vex didn’t share my reluctance to kill. In fact, the way he was toying with the baronet’s kid I thought he was going to kill her as well, but he stopped at rendering her unconscious. She was bleeding, but she’d heal.

That left us one apiece. Fair odds, until the baroness pulled a pistol from beneath her bustle.

“That’s not exactly sporting,” Vex said, his voice a guttural growl that made me shiver – and not entirely in a sexy way.

The vampire glanced at him before returning her attention to me. “I know you. You’re Vardan’s. What the hell are you?”

Fair enough question. One I’d ask myself were the situation reversed. “Me,” I replied with a shrug. I mean, really I was little bit of everything, wasn’t I? “But just so you know, the goblin prince promised that the goblins would go to war with anyone who spilled my blood, and that includes Churchill’s lackeys. Perhaps the question you should ask is whether or not I’m worth dying over.”

Her face went stark white. The pistol turned to Vex.

“Uh-uh.” I wagged a finger at her, silly with power. “Hurt him and I’ll take it personally. Don’t you think the old man’s brought you enough trouble for one night? You can either beg the alpha’s forgiveness for being a stupid cow, and hope he has mercy, or you can die. Or you can take your chances with the goblins. Either way, I’m pretty sure your life’s going to be a lot shorter than you’d planned.”

The pistol lowered. Beside her, the son of the viscount wiped blood from his mouth with the back of his hand and said, “I hear St Petersburg is lovely this time of year.”

“We could still kill you,” the baroness argued. “The goblins wouldn’t have to know.”

I laughed, and called her bluff. “Go ahead and shoot me, then. See how long it takes before the prince rips out your liver.”

She swallowed and tucked the gun underneath her bustle. “Will you let us go?” she asked Vex.

He looked more like himself now, save for the blood around his mouth and the wildness in his eyes. He glared at her as though he would dearly love to taste her blood as well, but being alpha, he was as much ruled by politics as bloodlust. She had asked for mercy, and she was a vampire.

“Leave,” he commanded. “If I see your face again, I’ll rip it off your skull.”

The vampires didn’t need any more encouragement. “Give my regards to Rasputin,” I called as they slunk into the shadows and disappeared from sight. The Russian aristocracy didn’t much like to talk about the Mad Monk. Not aristocratic, he wasn’t entirely human either. Maybe he was like me. Regardless, he was a scary son-of-a-bitch.

“I’m going to regret that,” Vex commented drily when we were alone.

“Maybe,” I replied, “but better that than finding out Church got it all on video.” There was only one dead body on the ground, and it was a halvie. I hated to think it, but a halvie death wouldn’t stir up quite so much trouble. People expected us – I mean halvies – to die. Self-defence was a valid excuse for killing.

“Churchill’s behind this?” Gold glowed in Vex’s eyes. “I’ll tear his fucking head off.”

If anyone could best Church, it was Vex. And quite possibly me, though he’d probably fuck with my head so bad I’d cave in.

“Let’s get out of here,” I suggested. “We can talk about it at home.”

We climbed into his motor carriage, leaving the body for the unconscious combatants to deal with when they woke up. There would be traffic along soon as more of the party at Chesterfield house let out. I was surprised no one had stumbled upon us as it was, but then this wasn’t the route most would take. Church would have known that.

A short while later we were in the monstrous tub in Vex’s bathroom, up to our shoulders in hot soapy water. We sat at opposite ends. I stroked his calf while he rubbed my feet.

“So Churchill planned to kill me because he’s in love with you?” The documents I’d sent him had been printed and were on
his bed, where he’d tossed them before running the bath. He’d made copies as well, smart man.

“He doesn’t love me.” I groaned with pleasure as his thumbs dug into the ball of my foot. This bath had been a glorious idea – to get us clean and to soak some of the tension from my muscles. “He sees me as a means to an end.”

Vex nodded. “Marrying you would increase his social standing, and if you produced full-blood children he would be seen as a saviour to the aristocracy. Victoria would probably overlook the fact that your mother was once a courtesan.”

Of course Church would be seen as the saviour, rather than me. Wanker.

“And the fact that you’re a goblin.”

My head jerked up. “You knew?” He couldn’t have read it – he had barely glanced at the pages.

He shrugged. “I had my suspicions.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”