I stared at Ricco as he circled me, planning his next move. His expression of hate hadn’t changed and his fangs showed as he grinned a feral grin and flexed his muscles. Posturing. Stupid. Had he not heard Lucius? Or did he just think he would win because he was Blood and I was not?
I tightened my grip on the dagger and as Ricco sprang again, I shadowed. The idiot hadn’t expected that and he lost his balance, flailing before he recovered to a half crouch, looking around wildly for me. I stepped, twisted, let go of the shadow and let my dagger carve an unerring path across his throat. For a moment he gaped at me, then his brain caught up with the messages of his body and he fell, head going in one direction as the rest of him fell toward me.
Blood sprayed like a fountain from the stump as his heart beat a last few frantic beats, brilliant red arcing across my face and body. As the body hit the floor with a thump, the scent of the blood suddenly filled my nose, rich and red and sweet. Not Lucius’ blood, true, but vampire blood just the same.
I clamped my mouth closed. I couldn’t afford to taste it. Not now. I didn’t know if Ricco’s blood would have the same effect on me as Lucius’, but I couldn’t take that gamble. But the smell . . . blood roared in my ears and my vision fogged. The room seemed silent beyond that pounding heartbeat, the Blood frozen in place, variously staring at Ricco’s corpse and me and Lucius. Some of them looked dismayed, some delighted. Ignatius Grey, in particular, was smiling broadly.
Was he the one who’d planted the idea of a challenge in Ricco’s head? It seemed his sort of scheme.
“Somebody take that away.” Lucius gestured toward Ricco’s headless corpse. “Burn it.” Trusted appeared from nowhere. Three of them lifted the body and another grasped the head by the long white hair, now striped red. The Trusted gulped once, looked slightly green as blood dripped from the stump of the neck and splattered onto his shoes, then hurried after the other three. Everyone watched them leave in silence.
I could feel the blood sliding slowly down my cheek and wanted desperately to wipe it off but stayed still, keeping my attention on Lucius.
His gaze returned to me. “We appear to have settled that for now, my shadow,” he said. He turned his attention to the rest of the Court. “Anyone else?”
Silence.
“Very well.” He pushed himself to his feet. I fought the urge to shrink back as he came toward me. “Now, shadow, we have business at Halcyon.”
There didn’t seem to be any reply I could make. So I merely inclined my head, then followed him from the hall, pausing only to reach out and take a handkerchief from the coat pocket of one of the Blood as we passed.
Thirty dead.
I scrubbed my face, trying to force myself awake, dunking water over my head as though it could wash me clean. No such luck. The day had turned into one long nightmare. I’d helped carry the bodies into the hospital, helped check each of them for any signs of life.
Started the long and tedious process of identifying each of them so that families could be told.
Thirty dead.
The words wouldn’t leave my head. Thirty dead. My fault. I was the one who’d taken Lily from Halcyon.
And my fault because, even though she’d walked away, even through the horrors of the day, it was Lily my thoughts kept returning to.
Lily who drove the grief and anger churning my stomach. Lily, and my failed vision of bringing Lucius to his knees. There was nothing left of that hope now, just as there was nothing left of whatever fragile bond Lily and I had been building. Had any part of it had been real? Had she just been biding her time, waiting to get away?
I might never know.
I rubbed my damp hands against my trousers, trying again to remove the feel of cooling flesh. I hated touching the dead. No life. No warmth. They filled me with a chill that even the sun was unable to chase away.
The Blood have that same chill. Lily had lived with it her whole life. Was living with it again, presumably.
Just as I was living with the reality of what I’d done and the not so concealed expressions of blame on the faces of some of my fellow healers. None of the Fae had spoken the words, but they didn’t need to. The accusation in their eyes and the too-polite tones as they worked beside me, Chrysanthe and Oleander and Bard and the others, made their feelings clear enough.
No more than I deserved.
Gods. My head ached and my eyes burned. I sank into the chair by my desk and rested my head in my hands, wishing desperately that I could heal myself. Or stun myself senseless. Or do anything even remotely useful.
“Simon?”
I didn’t look up. “If you’ve come to tell me I fucked up, don’t bother.” I didn’t need a lecture from Guy on top of everything else. One of us would end up bruised if he tried. In my current mood, it was likely to be him.
“I came to see if you’re all right.”
I lifted my head, blinking against the gritty ache in my eyes. “I’ve spent all day with dead bodies. How do you think I am?”
Guy shrugged. He leaned against the doorframe, looking rumpled and dusty. The Templars had taken on the task of carrying messages to the families we had identified so far. And trying to keep the human boroughs from spilling into violence as word of what had passed at St. Giles spread rapidly.
“Pissed off. Feeling guilty. Quite possibly planning something stupid like trying to get her back.”
I shook my head. “No.” Not exactly the truth. I had considered going after Lily for a few dark minutes, but I wasn’t suicidal. Not quite. “No, I won’t be going after her.”
His scarred eyebrow lifted. “Really?”
“Yes. She made her choice.”
“Good.” He brushed some of the dust off his clothes, then crossed the room to sit opposite me, slumping from his normal military bearing. The chains of treaty law must have weighed heavy, just now. I was sure he’d rather be in the Night World boroughs, hunting down Lucius and the Beasts.
“I am still going to talk to the Fae, though.”
“Will it do any good?”
“I don’t know.” I doubted it. The Veiled Queen might take the word of Lucius’ shadow as evidence against him, but mine? With no other proof, even if she believed me, she wouldn’t act. Still, I had to try.
“I’ll tell Father Cho. He’ll be able to organize a meeting with the Speaker. Though after this afternoon, I imagine you don’t need us to be granted an audience.”
Probably not. But going through the Templars might be more discreet. I still had a slim chance of bringing my plan off. So I needed to try not to fuck that up too.
There were stares as we walked through Halcyon. Lucius usually drew attention, but tonight the eyes were on me. I had used the handkerchief to clean my face and hands as best I could without water, but blood still stained my hands and stuck to my face, drying into crusty flakes.
At least the smell was less prominent when it dried. But even if I’d gotten the worst of the spatter off my skin, there was still a heavy spray across my clothing. Red does show against black, especially as it dries. The humans in the gathered crowd might not realize exactly what it was, but every Blood and Beast in the place would be all too aware.
I followed Lucius automatically, part of my brain still numbed by what I’d done. Back in the Court just a few hours and already I’d killed. I didn’t know if I could do it over and over again. I used to be able to mostly lock it away from my mind, but something was different. I kept seeing the look of shock on Ricco’s face and hearing the thump of his head hitting the floor over and over again.
And beyond my disgust was something more disturbing still. The aching fire of the need, called back to life full force by the scent of vampire blood.
What did that make me?
How could I fight it?
One thing was clear through the roil of emotions. If I was to stay here, until I could come up with a way to get away from Lucius and the City and this gods-damned hellhole, then something needed to be different. Some things had to be on my terms or by the time I got away, I might no longer be anyone I recognized or anyone I wanted to be.
We ascended to the stairs to Lucius’ suite. The part of me not sickly numb was all too aware of what had happened the last time he’d brought me here. But tonight, if he tried violence, I would fight back. After all, I had nothing to lose.
The door closed behind us, deadening the sounds of the Assembly, and we were alone. I stayed near to the door, breathing shallowly. Lucius’ scent surrounded me, fanning the need to an evermore piercing heat. I didn’t know how much longer I would be able to hold it off. How long would it be before I begged Lucius for relief? Despite everything I resolved, would the addiction win?
“Come closer.” Lucius stood by his desk, curiously still, white hair gleaming in the gaslight. For a moment, his pose reminded me of Atherton.
And I remembered the other vampire’s words as I moved in obedience to Lucius’ command.
Something changes in their blood and it can become irresistible if one is not careful.
The Blood could suffer from their own version of the need. Lucius had only drunk from me once, but maybe once was enough. I did not flatter myself that I was irresistible, but this was to do with blood. I had been drinking from Lucius for nearly fifteen years. Far longer than any blood-locked human could survive. If anyone’s blood should be tempting to Lucius, it should be mine. He might hunger for me. Hunger I might just be able to use.
Of course, the stakes of the game would be very high. My life.
But I’d been risking my life in the Court for as long as I could remember. Nothing was different now but me.
I could choose to play or not.
Chapter Eighteen
Lucius moved finally, resting his weight on the edge of the desk. The rubies flashed at me as I kept my gaze on his hands, worried that too many of my thoughts could be read on my face if I met his gaze.
“So, shadow, you have returned to me.”
“Yes, my Lord.” I had to look at him to reply.
“And you are unhurt?”
I felt my brows lift in surprise. Lucius had never been overly solicitous of my well-being. “Yes, my Lord.”