Iron Kin: A Novel of the Half-Light City (5 page)

A clatter of wheels and hooves announced the hackney, saving me from having to figure out what the hell to say next. As it pulled up in front of me, the driver looking unrepentant about being so tardy, I touched Holly’s cheek. “I have to go. I’m late.”

“Is it worth telling you to be careful?”

I flashed her a meant-to-be-reassuring grin. “Maybe not, but do it anyway.”

For a moment an answering smile chased away the worry in her eyes before it stole back and her face turned serious again. “Be careful,” she said fiercely.

I nodded, not promising anything, and climbed into the hackney.

Twenty minutes later the hackney drew to a halt. I pushed the leather blind back and peered out. Orpheus Station. Holt’s End, as agreed. Hackneys wouldn’t go any deeper into Beast territory; there was only so much well-trained horses would put up with. Most of them would handle a few Beasts, but being completely surrounded by the stink of predators was too much to ask. The Beasts had their own horses, of course, and Lady alone knew what sort of magic they worked on them to keep them under control, but my driver was human and I couldn’t expect him to work miracles.

I checked my watch again. Five minutes before the bells would ring three and Willem would come looking for me. Just about enough time if I hurried.

I didn’t want to leave the relative safety of the hackney, where the visions had fled, leaving me in peace for the first time all night. But I had little choice. I checked the position of my gun on my hip and the knives beside it and in my boot, then opened the door.

The cabbie wasted no time in urging his horses back toward Mickleskin. I watched him go, then turned in the opposite direction, walking quickly through the night and trying to look not worth messing with. The streets were busy, as they always are in Night World boroughs when the moon is high, but for once my luck held and no one challenged me.

I reached the north side of the high stone wall that surrounded the Krueger Pack House with a few seconds to spare. Willem leaned against the wood and metal gate, near the guardhouse, eyes scanning the street. He pushed away from the wall as I approached.

“You’re on time,” he said. “Wise man.”

“Worried about me? How thoughtful.”

“Worried that I was going to have to waste the rest of the night hunting you down,” he retorted. “I have better things to do. Let’s go, half-breed. The Alpha is waiting.” He gestured me forward and I obeyed, not liking him walking behind me but unable to do anything about it.

I stood back when Willem pushed open the front door, but once again he jerked his chin, waiting for me to go first. I did but I dawdled, trying to delay the inevitable as I stepped across the threshold.

The pack house smelled like Beasts. Sweat. Fur. Musk. Earth.

Danger
.

The scent made the hairs on the back of my neck rise, as did the sight of gleaming eyes in the darkness. Beasts change unbidden under the full moon but also shift at will. And they are dangerous on two legs, four legs, or in their hybrid forms.

I kept my eyes on Willem’s back and acted like nothing was bothering me. There might be worse places to appear nervous or weak than a pack house after moonrise, but right now I couldn’t think of one.

The visions stayed under control, which made me think that most of the Beasts must be out in the night. A small mercy at least.

Willem led me down the hall, his boot heels tapping along the floorboards like a drummer beating someone to the gallows. I resisted the urge to loosen my tie. It wasn’t a rope and if anyone was going to hang this evening, it wouldn’t be me.

Mercifully, the next turn of the corridor landed us in front of a familiar door. Solid oak carved with snarling wolf heads, it led to Martin’s reception room. One of my least favorite places in the City. This was where I ended up whenever Martin got the yen to know the future. Tonight was going to be the last time.

Willem opened the door without any sort of announcement. Obviously we were expected.

I crossed the threshold and stopped as close to the door as possible. As always, the room was lit with lanterns rather than gaslights. Their flames flickered rapidly, making the shadows move uneasily. The walls and carpets were a deep dark red, combining to evoke a sensation of the room pressing unpleasantly close around its occupants. Carved wooden screens stood in the corners and along the walls. You could never be sure just what might be lurking behind them, waiting to spill your blood onto the carpets where it wouldn’t show.

Smoke from the lanterns and heavily spiced incense mingled in the air with the Beast smell. It made the atmosphere even more claustrophobic. Other than anyone who might be hidden behind the screens, the room was largely empty. Four Beasts stood in a semicircle behind the desk at its heart.
Guerriers
protecting their Alpha.

The man sitting behind the desk studied me as I studied him. The
guerriers
all stared at me too, eyes focused with predatory intent.

I was flattered that they thought it would take four—five if you counted Willem—Beasts to take me down. In reality it would probably only require one. Which Martin well knew. Which meant his display of force was a threat and that he was in no mood to be trifled with.

I wondered if anything in particular was raising his hackles or whether he was just infected with the general jitteriness of the Night World right now. Because he was nervous—that much was clear, even though his expression remained impassive as he beckoned me forward.

I narrowed my eyes. What did Martin Krueger have to be nervous about? It was a pity I couldn’t loosen the chain and see what I could see, but there wasn’t any time for that.

Martin’s face—black hair pulled back from deeply tanned skin that made his green eyes seem very bright—was still as I walked toward him. Yet there was something in the way he held himself that confirmed my instinct. He was definitely uneasy. In Beast form, his hackles would have been rising.

My stomach began its own nervous dance. What exactly was going on here?

Martin’s expression offered no clues. As always, the sight of him made my gut twist with anger. I might be only one-eighth Beast but pack blood runs strong. Looking at Martin, I saw echoes of my own face. My coloring was all Krueger, even if my eyes were a stranger shade of green than any human or Beast ever sported and I lacked the bulky muscles of a Beast. Set amongst the men standing here, I looked like a younger brother; one who had some growing to do but who was still undoubtedly blood. No wonder Martin thought he could call me at will like an unruly child. Perhaps it was time to disabuse him of that notion once and for all.

“Martin,” I said, bowing shallowly. No submissive acknowledgment of his superiority, just the minimum respect I could get away with. “You wanted to see me?”

“I wanted to see you several hours ago.”

“As I told Willem, I was otherwise engaged.” I stood my ground. No submission.

“Consorting with the humans. You think they’re going to take you in, a mongrel child like you?” His tone was scornful.

“No,” I said bluntly. “No more than I think you or my father’s family would acknowledge me. What do you want?”

He looked stony, then gestured at the others. “Leave us. Except Willem.”

The
guerriers
vanished, melting away at the too fast, too graceful pace that always made me see the wolves inside the men far too clearly. I stayed on alert, waiting to see what would happen next.

Martin rose from his desk, came around it. The gun and dagger at my hip suddenly felt too far away. I was fast but not as fast as a Beast.

“What’s this about?” I repeated, putting the edge of a growl into my voice. I was outside his pack, outside his authority. I wasn’t going to roll over and show my belly.

Martin halted, a few feet away from me. “I need some information.”

That much I knew already. “Inform
ation about what?” I wasn’t promising anything. I moved my left hand to my hip, nearer my gun.

“About Simon DuCaine.”

Buggering Veil’s eyes
. I was the belle of the ball this evening. Everyone wanted to dance with me.

“What makes you think I have any information about Simon DuCaine?” I asked, trying to sound bored.

“Come now, Fen. Your little friend . . . the one who does the dresses, amongst other things”—his voice dropped, lower, edged with a threat—“she is keeping company with his brother. The Templar. And, in the past, it has tended to be true that where the dressmaker goes, there you are.”

I cocked my head. “The only things I know about Simon DuCaine are that he’s a healer and that he’s a brave man when it comes to choosing a woman.” A little threat of my own, reminding Martin just who he would be messing with if he went after Simon. The thought of incurring the anger of a wraith was enough to give any sensible man pause. And make him run fast in the opposite direction. Not that I’d ever known Martin to be particularly sensible. “And that his brother is, indeed, involved with my friend. Touchy man, Guy DuCaine. Both of them are, actually.”

“There’s more to the story than that.”

“So you say. But I’m telling you what I know.”

“You’re telling me you haven’t seen anything about him?”

I shook my head, “I’ve seen things. I see things about many people. But nothing that would be of interest to you.”

“Be sensible, Fen. We can help each other out.”

“I don’t need your help, Martin.”

“Oh no?” He closed the gap between us with one swift stride. His hand grabbed my forearm, wrenching it up. He pushed my shirt back with the other hand, baring the chain. “I’d say you’re in trouble, boy.” He studied the skin around my wrist, which was bruised and angry-looking. “Iron won’t help you much longer. You need to learn to control the visions. I can help with that.”

“If you had a seer, Martin, you wouldn’t need me now, would you?” I knew better than to struggle against his grip. A Beast was stronger than any half-breed. “Yet here I am. Which means you don’t have anyone who can help me.”

“There are other packs,” he snarled.

“Have you forged an alliance then?” For another pack to lend Martin a seer would take a very close bond, beyond the ever-shifting temporary alignment of interests that wove a web between the packs. And exact a very high price in return favors. Martin would need to be getting desperate to do that. “Risky times to trust anybody, these.”

His lip curled again, but his hand left my arm. I shoved my sleeve back down.

“Don’t make this difficult, boy,” Martin said.

“Believe me, I don’t want to.”

“Good. Then you will tell me what you know about Simon DuCaine.”

I fought the urge to reach for the gun at my hip. Two Beasts. I might shoot one of them at least before they got to me. Maybe. Even if the Lady favored me and I got them both, I wouldn’t get past the
guerriers
waiting outside the door.

“I’m telling you I haven’t seen anything.”

Martin leaned closer. “Then I suggest you take that chain off your wrist and look again.”

I stared at him. “It doesn’t work that way. I need to be close to someone.”

“You’re close to me. There’s trouble in the City, boy, and I believe that Simon DuCaine is tangled in it. If you look, you’ll see him.”

Fuck. He was probably right about that. “I can’t guarantee I’ll see anything.”

“I suggest you try very hard.”

There was no way out that I could see. Gritting my teeth, I opened the clasp on the chain and unwrapped it from my wrist. The room suddenly blurred around me, the visions pouring in with a force that made my head whirl greasily, pain and nausea rushing through me.

I bent over, trying not to retch. It felt like my head was trying to tear itself in two. I didn’t know how much more pain I could take. Saskia’s face flashed into my head, her and the weird moment of stillness I’d experienced at the touch of her hand. Maybe if—I pushed the thought away. No time to think about what might be. I had to deal with the pain now. I drew in a long breath, my head still screaming in protest.

“What do you see?”

“Right at this moment,” I managed to say, “your very fine carpet.”

Martin wrenched me upright. “Hurts, does it? Still think you don’t need my help?”

“I’m not an
immuable
, Martin. I’m a mongrel, remember?” One who was going to stay far away from anything that resembled a leash.

“If you don’t want my help, it’s on your head.” The grip of the huge hand on the back of my neck tightened, sharp nails pricking at my skin. “But I will know what you see. So look, boy. Look hard.”

I didn’t see any alternative. I didn’t have to tell him everything I saw of course, but I wasn’t getting out of here until I told him
something
. Something that would make it worth his while to keep me alive. After all, he lacked a seer and if I wasn’t going to fulfill that role for him, he had no reason not to indulge the anger that smoked his voice.

Martin was not the delicate type. He would hurt me or kill me with no compunction. The images that flickered at the edges of my peripheral vision, the ones rising in response to Martin’s proximity were littered with bodies and blood.

For now they didn’t contain anyone I knew, but that could change.

I swallowed hard, fighting the nausea, and opened myself to the visions. It felt like stepping off a cliff and falling into a nightmare. The room went away and I stood alone in darkness, watching the flickering show that only I could see. Images danced around me, almost too fast to interpret. Some were faded and indistinct but some flared almost too bright to bear. Flames searing bright across the City turning the moonlight to smoky orange. A broken sword lying on marble tiles. The face of Ignatius Grey snarling in triumph, eyes blazing as red as the blood that stained his mouth. A crumpled pile of white fabric. Ash falling over cobblestones. But no Simon. Not this time.

Thank the Lady
.

I tried to find the Ignatius image again. If I couldn’t offer Martin the insights into Simon that he sought, then perhaps knowledge of the Blood would be an acceptable substitute. Ignatius Grey was currently the Blood lord most likely to retake control of the Blood Court. The Blood had been embroiled in deadly politics since Lord Lucius had vanished. As far as I knew, Ignatius was allied with the Roussellines, one of the packs who had backed Lucius. Perhaps Martin could use some leverage to better the position of the Kruegers there.