Shadow Kin (48 page)

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Authors: M.J. Scott

BOOK: Shadow Kin
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“No. It was signed
e’hai
. That means faithful, doesn’t it?”
“Close enough. It has connotations of a sworn loyalty.” Bryony’s eyes were stormy and the chain around her next shimmered with a darkening sheen of purple. “Was that all?”
“There was a drawing. Some sort of leaf.”
Her gaze sharpened. “A leaf? Could you draw it?” She reached to one side and drew a piece of paper from a neat stack, nodded toward the inkpot and quill lying on her desk.
I took up the quill, tried to remember the leaf. Five rounded bumps, two each side and one topmost. My hand shook slightly as I tried to trace it. Fatigue? Or the need? As if in answer, my stomach cramped, my fingers clenching with it. I bit down a gasp. Need, then. I gripped the quill tighter and finished the job, hoping Simon and Bryony hadn’t noticed.
“What does a leaf mean?” Simon asked.
“I don’t know yet,” Bryony said. “Maybe nothing.” She held out a hand as I put the quill down.
I passed her my drawing. “I’m no artist.”
Bryony frowned down at the image. Then she suddenly dropped it as though it were a snake. “
Shal e’tan, mei
,” she spat.
Even I knew that one. It meant something like fuck the Veil. Not the sort of thing I expected to hear from Bryony, though.
“What?” Simon asked. I shot him a glance. He looked confused rather than surprised. Either he didn’t know that particular curse or he’d heard it before.
“Ring the bell,” Bryony said.
“Is—”
“Ring the damned bell, Simon,” she snarled.
He did so. In a few moments, Harriet opened the door after two quick knocks.
Bryony’s furious expression didn’t improve at the sight of her. “Where’s Chrysanthe?” she demanded.
Harriet shrugged. “I haven’t seen her. I was close when the bell rang, so I came.”
“Fetch Chrysanthe.”
Harriet didn’t argue. She vanished with alacrity.
“Chrysanthe?” Simon asked incredulously. “You think it’s Chrysanthe.”
Bryony pushed the paper toward him. “That”—she tapped the leaf with a finger—“is a chrysanthemum leaf. Badly drawn but that’s what it is. You’ve seen Chrysanthe’s ring. What colors are the stones?”
His face turned thunderous. I fought the urge to shrink backward so as not to get between the two of them. I’d never imagined that my few meager clues would provide the identity of Lucius’ informant so quickly.
“Emerald and something yellow,” Simon said. “Gods and fucking suns.”
“Exactly,” Bryony said. “Chrysanthe is the only one of her Family who works in this hospital. And their emblem has several chrysanthemum leaves.” She bowed her head suddenly and I saw her throat working.
Simon sank into the nearest chair. “Are you sure?”
“Of course I’m not sure,” Bryony said after a pause. “But she’s the one who fits.”
“But why?” Simon said, shaking his head. “Why would she do such a thing? She’s a healer.”
Bryony shook her head. “I don’t know. But I intend to find out.” Her spine was suddenly razor straight again and her necklace blazed.
I took a cautious step backward, finding a seat myself. Another cramp—my back this time—hit and I bit my lip, determined not to show any pain. After what seemed an eternity, there was another rapid knock on the door.
“Come in,” Bryony said.
Harriet entered, looking wary. “I couldn’t find Chrysanthe,” she said. “No one’s seen her for a few hours.”
Which meant she’d vanished not long after I had returned.
Simon and Bryony seemed to reach the same conclusion. They exchanged a long look.
“Thank you, Harriet,” Simon said, in too calm a voice. “You can go. If Chrysanthe returns, please see that Bryony or I are informed.”
Harriet looked from him to Bryony; then her gaze darted to me, curiosity flaring briefly on her face. Then she looked back at Simon. “All right.” She apparently knew better than to ask any more questions and backed out of the room again.
“Do you know where she lives?” Simon asked Bryony.
“Yes. She has a flat not far from here.”
“Someone has to go see if she’s there.”
Bryony winced. “Yes.”
“Do you think she would go home?” I asked. “More likely she’s gone to Lucius to tell him where I am. Nothing else has happened to make her think her cover is blown.”
“Or else she’s just gone out on an errand,” Bryony said.
Simon shrugged. “Perhaps. But we can’t risk her slipping through our fingers. We need to take her to the Speaker. Lily can tell him her story at the same time.” He smiled suddenly, a vicious smile. “He wanted proof. Now we have it again.”
“I will send word to the chambers,” Bryony said. “But he may not grant us an audience today.”
“Tomorrow is soon enough,” Simon said. “We can hold Chrysanthe once we have her. And Lily isn’t going anywhere.” He cocked his head at me. “That’s right, isn’t it, Lily? You’ll still give your testimony.”
Unless Lucius came and killed me in the night. Unless I killed him first. I managed to nod, not wanting to rouse any of the anger crackling through him to further heights. Time enough to convince him that I was right, that Lucius needed to die, once he’d calmed down a little. “Of course.”
He nodded. “All right. Then the question is who goes to find Chrysanthe.”
Bryony rose. “I’ll do it. You have no way to make her return. I can.” Her face was implacable and I was glad that I was not Chrysanthe with the wrath of the Fae about to fall on me.
“Very well.” Simon paused, then frowned. “There’s something else I need to—”
I reached out, gripped his arm before he could say any more. “No, let her go,” I said urgently. I didn’t want him asking Bryony about wraiths. I didn’t want him telling her the truth of what wraith blood did to vampires. The Fae hated my kind enough already. I didn’t want them deciding that it was easier to eliminate one wraith than Lucius.
Simon scowled at me. “Lily—”
“Enough,” Bryony said, looking exasperated. “Whatever it is, Simon, it has to wait. I need to find Chrysanthe.”
Simon’s scowl deepened but he nodded agreement. Bryony left us alone and he turned to me, blue eyes snapping.
“You can’t ask her,” I said before he could start talking. “She can’t know.”
“Know what?”
“About me. About Lucius and the Blood. You were going to ask her about wraiths, weren’t you?” I searched his face.
He nodded. “Why shouldn’t I ask?”
“She’ll tell the Fae. Don’t you see? They’ll come after me.”
He stilled in the chair. “You don’t know that.”
“I do,” I said. “Trust me.” My heart pounded. Would he listen? Would he protect me?
Simon pushed to his feet. “Fine. I won’t tell her. But we are going to talk to someone.”
“Who?” I asked, climbing to my feet, my legs shaky beneath me, whether from reprieve or the need weakening me, I wasn’t sure.
“Guy,” Simon said curtly.
 
Simon led the way to the Brother House, walking in silence.
Do you believe me now?
I wanted to ask.
Do you trust me?
But I stayed quiet. I knew very well there was one good reason for him not to trust me. Because I was still lying to him.
We entered the Brother House through the gate in the tunnels but had only gone a few yards farther when we met Guy coming the other way. His face was half blackened, smeared with soot or ash. He reeked of smoke.
“What in hell happened to you?” Simon demanded, reaching to clasp Guy’s upper arm.
“When did she get back?” Guy asked almost simultaneously, shrugging off the touch.
The brothers frowned at each other. “This morning,” Simon said. “We need to talk.”
“Yes,” Guy agreed. “I was just coming to find you. There was a fire at Mother’s town house.”
Lords of hell. Fear clutched my throat. “Was anyone hurt?”
Guy shook his head. “It was closed up. They’re calling it a gas leak.” His voice made it clear he didn’t believe it.
“Lucius,” Simon said at last, voice near to a snarl. “Making a point.”
“Something like that,” Guy said. “I’ve organized for Mother and Hannah and Saskia to be moved. They’ll be guarded.”
“It’s Lucius we need to talk about,” Simon said.
“I gathered that much,” Guy said. “We need somewhere private.”
He led us back into the Brother House and up two floors to some sort of meeting chamber. Simon warded the room. When he was done, the three of us took up places around a small oak table, Simon next to me and Guy opposite. Simon briefed Guy in curt sentences.
“Son of a hell-sworn bitch,” Guy grated when Simon finished. “This is not good. What’s the plan?”
“Kill Lucius,” I said.
“Good plan.” Guy actually smiled. “How?”
Simon shook his head at both of us. “We’re not killing anyone. We get Lily to the Speaker, get the Fae to stop him.”
“No,” I snapped. “We’re past that point. Lady’s eyes, Simon, he just burned your house down. We need to end him. Some things you have to fight for,” I added, and saw him jerk as my shot hit home. I knew he didn’t want to fight, didn’t want to tap into whatever dark side of himself he feared, but mere resistance wasn’t going to win the day any longer. Lucius had changed the game. “And if you won’t help me, then I’ll do it alone.”
Simon shoved back from the table. “No.”
“Yes,” I retorted. Once upon a time, I had been willing to go along with Simon’s plan to see Lucius curbed, but now I didn’t need him curbed; I needed him gone. Both to end the threat to me and maybe, just maybe, to free me from the need. Free me before Simon had to know the truth. Killing him was the simplest way to achieve it.
“It’s too late for diplomacy, Simon. Lucius wants to kill you and he wants my blood. If you go to the Fae, the reasons for both those things will come out. Lucius will defend himself. Do you want to lose everything you’ve been working toward? Do you want every Blood lord hunting me? Or the Fae trying to kill me?” I willed him to see sense, to see that it was the only way. His eyes locked with mine and in the blue depths I saw grief and anger and denial.
Asking him to do this might just break him. Break anything he felt for me at least? But in order to live, I realized with a sickening pain that had nothing to do with the need tightening its claws, I had to be willing to pay any price.
Damn Lucius to the seven depths of hell.
“Please, Simon,” I said softly. “We don’t have a choice.”
For a moment I thought he was going to refuse, but then he looked from me to Guy and the lines of his face settled into grim resignation. “All right,” he said flatly. “We kill him. You have any ideas as to how?”
Guy tapped the table with his long fingers, red cross rippling on his skin, his eyes ice cold and his face set in the same grim lines as his brother’s. “That might take more than my help, little brother. It might take divine intervention.”
“Unless you have some of that to hand, I think we should focus on coming up with a plan,” I said. “Lucius wants me back. Can’t we use that?”
The fingers stopped their tattoo as Guy’s brows drew together. “You think he’ll come for you?”
I nodded. “Yes. He’ll want more blood. It’s not like he has another wraith to hand. I think he’ll come tonight if he finds out where I am.”
“Well, then, there’s only one detail we really need to work out.”
“And that is?”
“Where best to place the bait.” Guy nodded, a satisfied smile lighting his face.
I stared at Guy, tasting bile. I’d known I’d have to face Lucius again, of course, but now it struck home. I would be letting myself be dangled temptingly in front of Lucius’ nose. Offering myself up to his vengeance.
Lucius wanted me. He’d come to get me.
All I had to do was put myself in a position where he thought he could do so. Put myself in his reach.
“So we need to decide where we want to meet him,” I said slowly, trying to think to chase away the fear. “Then we can let that leak out. Guy, some of your men could do that, couldn’t they? Let it slip that I’m back here and ready to testify? Starting now?”
Guy nodded. Simon still hadn’t spoken.
“What’s wrong, little brother?” Guy asked.
“It’s dangerous.”
I shrugged, not wanting either of them to see how scared I was. They might do something stupid like try to stop me. “My life is already dangerous.” If I wasn’t going to run, then nothing could make things worse than they were already.
“Nothing ventured, nothing gained,” Guy added. A very Templar sentiment.
Simon finally nodded, though the movement was reluctant. “Then let’s make sure we’re the ones who gain.”

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