The Cold Kiss of Death (37 page)
‘Fair enough.’ I stopped, giving her a wary look. ‘But they’re not the only reasons, are they?’
‘Of course not, child.’ She smiled, her teeth as black and sharp as the dog’s. ‘As I have told you before, I abhor what you are; even were you not infected with
salaich sìol
you have your father’s taint in your blood, and I intended to end your life at first.’ She might have been discussing the weather for all the emotion in her voice. ‘But you proved yourself to be resourceful, courageous and stubborn that night, and I owed you a debt.’
salaich sìol
you have your father’s taint in your blood, and I intended to end your life at first.’ She might have been discussing the weather for all the emotion in her voice. ‘But you proved yourself to be resourceful, courageous and stubborn that night, and I owed you a debt.’
Yeah, it wasn’t me the vamp sunk his fangs in, was it?
I said to myself. The stupid sucker had been so excited at catching a phouka that he completely missed the fourteen-year-old sidhe right under his nose. Not that I’d missed him. And Grianne’s feelings for me were nothing new. But it was nice to know I’d impressed her; at least that was something.
I said to myself. The stupid sucker had been so excited at catching a phouka that he completely missed the fourteen-year-old sidhe right under his nose. Not that I’d missed him. And Grianne’s feelings for me were nothing new. But it was nice to know I’d impressed her; at least that was something.
‘So I agreed to the prohibition,’ she carried on calmly. ‘I would not attempt to remove you from London, either by death or any other means, so long as you were no hindrance to my queen.’ Her mouth turned down. ‘Although at the time I was not aware that the vampires were part of the same agreement. ’
In other words, someone had tricked her and she really
had
expected me to end up as vamp chow. And what she was telling me confirmed my suspicions about why the fae - as well as the vamps - had agreed to leave me alone for the last ten years. If they hadn’t, Grianne
would
have killed me, and deprived all of them of their sidhe prize.
had
expected me to end up as vamp chow. And what she was telling me confirmed my suspicions about why the fae - as well as the vamps - had agreed to leave me alone for the last ten years. If they hadn’t, Grianne
would
have killed me, and deprived all of them of their sidhe prize.
Mentally I thanked Malik and Tavish, whatever their motives. I might have despatched the vamp that attacked Grianne that night, but I’d been hurt, so if she had decided to kill me, I’d have been easy dogmeat. I shuddered; Death by Phouka is
so
not a pleasant thought.
so
not a pleasant thought.
‘I suppose the question, Grianne,’ I said slowly, ‘is why you decided
not
to kill me on my twenty-third birthday, once the prohibition came to an end.’
not
to kill me on my twenty-third birthday, once the prohibition came to an end.’
‘You are more valuable alive, child.’ She walked on, her dress trailing behind her. ‘My queen agreed that I should stay my hand.’
‘Thanks,’
I think.
I wondered what ‘valuable’ meant, and how much longer ‘valuable’ would last, but I pushed those thoughts away to examine later and got my mind back on the real reason for my meeting with Grianne: information on the sidhe who murdered Tomas.
I think.
I wondered what ‘valuable’ meant, and how much longer ‘valuable’ would last, but I pushed those thoughts away to examine later and got my mind back on the real reason for my meeting with Grianne: information on the sidhe who murdered Tomas.
‘So, “None in the Fair Lands has opened any of the three gates”.’ I half-smiled, as I repeated her words. ‘That’s very specific information; care to tell me what you’re not saying?’
‘First, I have a proposition for you.’ The wind ruffled her sleek hair. ‘My queen is willing to testify to the human authorities on your behalf about this crime.’
‘Why?’
‘You have succeeded far better than I ever did at rescuing those fae entrapped by the vampires, for which my queen is grateful.’ She pointed a black sharp-tipped fingernail at me. ‘You know how to think like the humans, you have contacts within the witches and vampires’ circles, and amongst the Others, the trolls and the goblins. Your knowledge of London is invaluable.’
‘Why Grianne, I didn’t know you cared so much,’ I said, then held up a hand at her look of displeasure. ‘It’s okay, I get the message. There
is
another
bean sidhe
wandering round London, and she’s somehow managed to bypass the gates without your queen’s knowledge, and now your queen wants me to find her. In exchange she’ll get me off the hook. I take it she also wants the sidhe repatriated, rather than being handed over to the authorities?’
is
another
bean sidhe
wandering round London, and she’s somehow managed to bypass the gates without your queen’s knowledge, and now your queen wants me to find her. In exchange she’ll get me off the hook. I take it she also wants the sidhe repatriated, rather than being handed over to the authorities?’
‘This is so.’ She held out her hand. A smooth pebble of gleaming haematite lay in her palm. ‘All you need do is find the sidhe and give her this. It will return her to her home in an instant.’
Magic, gotta love it.
I took the pebble; it tingled like electricity against my fingers. I dropped it into my pocket. ‘I’m going to need whatever information you’ve got. All of it, no keeping things back this time, Grianne.’
‘So you agree to do this?’ She angled her head to look down at me, her eyes gleaming oddly yellow for a moment.
‘Isn’t that what I just said?’ I raised my brows, then sighed at her expectant silence. ‘Yes, I agree.’
She smiled, satisfied.
‘Good,’ I said. ‘Now that you’re happy, please start talking.’
‘Very well, child. The three London gates have not been opened, but another has been recently conjured by a mortal in this part of the world. As yet, my queen has not succeeded in locating the gate’s anchor, either here or in her own territory. ’
I frowned. ‘When you say “anchor”, what do you mean?’
‘Gates are traditionally opened at specific landmarks, anchored by a combination of earth, air and water magic, which makes them easy to locate and to guard.’ The pointed tips of her ears seemed to flatten. ‘This gate is anchored by blood magic.’
‘Which means?’
‘The gate can be opened anywhere, here or in the Fair Lands, by whomsoever controls the blood.’
‘So the anchor is the person and not a place?’
‘Almost correct, child. The anchor is two persons, the two halves of the gate. It will be a mortal on this side, one who shares a close blood-connection with someone in my queen’s court.’
‘What sort of blood-connection?’ I asked.
‘A parent on this side whose child is in the Fair Lands.’
‘A mortal parent this side,’ I said, putting the pieces together in my mind. ‘So you’re talking about, what, a stolen child on your side?’
Grianne paled in shock. ‘My queen would
never
sanction a stolen child at her court! That would be to break the bargain the human monarch Victoria brokered with all the queens of the Fair Lands on the birth of her first child.’
never
sanction a stolen child at her court! That would be to break the bargain the human monarch Victoria brokered with all the queens of the Fair Lands on the birth of her first child.’
I wasn’t quite sure how many queens of the Fair Lands there were; I’d asked Grianne once and finally got out of her ‘
more than twenty
’ along with ‘
as many as the magic desires’
when I’d pressed the matter. Both were typical answers when she either didn’t know, or didn’t want to tell me something.
more than twenty
’ along with ‘
as many as the magic desires’
when I’d pressed the matter. Both were typical answers when she either didn’t know, or didn’t want to tell me something.
‘Queen Victoria died more than a century ago,’ I said, matter-of-fact.
Her shock turned to puzzlement. ‘There is still a queen on the throne of England, not a king, is there not?’
‘Yes, Queen Elizabeth. The Second.’
‘Then the bargain will have been renegotiated on the birth of the current queen’s first child.’ She waved dismissively. ‘The tradition goes back to Boadicea.’
‘Okay, so if the child isn’t stolen, what is it?’
‘A treasured gift given to my queen,’ she said softly, ‘at a time of great sorrow.’
Ri-ight. I wondered briefly who actually suffered this great sorrow, the queen, or the poor human who was persuaded to give up her child as a gift? Still, there couldn’t be many who’d done so, whatever the reason, which would narrow the search. ‘So who’s the parent?’ I asked.
She placed a hand on my arm. ‘There is a complication, child.’
Figured! ‘Go on.’
‘The gate has not been used by either the child or the parent, but by someone unrelated to either of them.’
I frowned. ‘But you said the gate needed their blood to make the connection.’
She nodded. ‘This is true.’
‘So whoever has opened the gate has access to their blood,’ I mused. ‘Which means they have to be close to the parent, so finding the parent should lead me to the gate-conjurer and then to the sidhe.’
‘This quest would be of benefit both to my queen and to you yourself.’ Grianne guided us around a large oil-slicked puddle. ‘When you find the anchor, my queen will intercede on your behalf with the human authorities to confirm that you are not responsible for the human’s death.’
‘Fair enough.’
‘There is one more thing you should be aware of.’ She hesitated for a moment, then said, ‘The
bean sidhe
is not in her right mind.’
bean sidhe
is not in her right mind.’
‘I’d kind of got that by the fact she’s murdered someone,’ I said drily.
‘She may not realise she has done so.’ The tips of Grianne’s ears twitched. ‘It is important you take care that she is not harmed.’
‘Fine. The information, Grianne.’
‘It is in your pocket, child.’ She turned, the air wavered about her, she dropped to all four doggy paws and bounded off, nails clicking sharply along the street.
‘Make an exit, why don’t you?’ I muttered, pulling out a folded sheet of parchment from my jacket pocket. Opening it, I glanced at the name—
—and sighed. Helen Crane, a.k.a Detective Inspector Helen Crane, Head of the Metropolitan Magic Murder Squad, the person in charge of hunting me down for a murder I didn’t commit.
Crap. Could my day get any worse?
Chapter Twenty-Five
H
elen Crane’s blood had been used to open a gate between London and the Fair Lands, a gate that led to her child - a child she’d given to the sidhe. A changeling, then. What was I supposed to do, ring her up and say, ‘Hi, Helen, I know we’re not best buddies or anything, but hey, just heard you’ve got a long-lost kid, one that’s off in the Fair Lands, and guess what? Someone’s using your blood connection to let the murderer come through - any ideas who that might be?’
elen Crane’s blood had been used to open a gate between London and the Fair Lands, a gate that led to her child - a child she’d given to the sidhe. A changeling, then. What was I supposed to do, ring her up and say, ‘Hi, Helen, I know we’re not best buddies or anything, but hey, just heard you’ve got a long-lost kid, one that’s off in the Fair Lands, and guess what? Someone’s using your blood connection to let the murderer come through - any ideas who that might be?’
And I could just imagine the superior look on her beautiful, patrician face as she replied, ‘Well, that’s very interesting, Ms Taylor, but isn’t this the murder we suspect you’re responsible for? The one I’m investigating? And not that it’s relevant, but don’t you think I’d know if someone had used my blood?’
Damn. Whichever way I looked at this, it didn’t get any better.
Helen liked me even less than Grianne did, and she had even less incentive to listen to me, thanks to our butting heads over Finn - her ex ... and if anyone would know about DI Helen Crane’s long-lost child, her ex should. Okay, so they’d only had a broom marriage, but even so, seven years and seven days isn’t exactly ships passing. Asking Finn what he knew about it was a way better option that trying to beard a powerful witch in her police den at Old Scotland Yard. Not to mention I’d been planning on seeing him as soon as anyway.
‘
Genevieve!
’
Genevieve!
’
I jerked my head up at the sound of my name and scanned my surroundings. The street was empty, other than the three costumed actors outside the London Bridge Experience. Beyond them, thirty-odd feet away, was Tavish’s doorway, still propped open for my return, but Tavish hadn’t appeared there, and no one else was near it. I did a quick circle, checking out the steps leading up to the bridge above, and squinting at the bridge parapet—
‘
Genevieve
,’ the voice came again—
Genevieve
,’ the voice came again—
—from the direction of the actors. I frowned at them. The two women were engrossed in their gossiping, but the man was standing off to one side. As I looked, he started shuffling towards me, dragging his feet over the ground. I froze like the proverbial rabbit, pulse jumping in my throat, staring at the sunken eye sockets, the nose eaten away by a sore, the deep cut marring his left cheek ... and as he got closer, I caught the rotten smell of putrefying flesh. The hairs at the nape of my neck lifted in shock. He wasn’t staff; he wasn’t an actor playing the part of a plague victim, but the real thing: Scarface, the ghost who’d kept bumping into Finn’s magic circle.
Adrenalin finally broke through my fear and I started sprinting for Tavish’s doorway on the other side of the bridge.
Scarface jerked and shuffled faster, changing his course to cut me off.
The world narrowed to the gap between ghost and wall.
The women looked up in surprise.
The gap got smaller.
An arm stretched out for me—
A scream lodged in my throat—
—and then I was past him, my lungs burning, nearly there—
—and my foot caught the kerb, sending me sprawling. Sharp grit cut into my palms and my jeans-clad knees. Skeletal fingers snapped at my ankles. I cried out and kicked back, my feet sinking into something soft and fleshy, then I struggled to my feet and, staggering, started running again, crouched over, not daring to look behind me, desperate to reach the doorway and safety. I hit the opening at full pelt and felt the magic resisting me like sticky syrup as bony fingers raked down my back. I screamed again, threw myself forward, not caring for anything except getting away, grabbing for something, anything, to stop him dragging me back ...
I smashed into a hard body and familiar arms wrapped around me, pulling me through, leaving the clawing fingers behind. I huddled against him, hiccoughing and trembling with adrenalin and fear.
‘Sssh,’ he murmured, his breath a soothing warmth over the top of my head as his familiar berry scent curled into me and his reassuring hands stroked my back. ‘It’s okay, Gen, I’ve got you,’ and I felt his lips touch my hair.
I pressed closer to him, instinctively seeking the comfort he was offering, and slipped my arms around his waist, tucking my face into the warm hollow of his neck. He tensed, a brief moment of wariness, then it was gone and I felt his heart beating calm and steady next to my own more frantic
thump-thump
. His heat seeped into me, calming my trembling. Part of me thought about moving out of his embrace, but I wanted to be there, wanted him to hold me, wanted to be held because I was me, not because I was sidhe, not because of my blood, not because I might break a curse, not because of anything.
thump-thump
. His heat seeped into me, calming my trembling. Part of me thought about moving out of his embrace, but I wanted to be there, wanted him to hold me, wanted to be held because I was me, not because I was sidhe, not because of my blood, not because I might break a curse, not because of anything.
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