God Save the Queen

CHAPTER 12

ADVERSITY IS THE FIRST PATH TO TRUTHSome American fellow once said that the English people possessed “an extraordinary ability for flying into a great calm”. I always found that sentiment a little … offensive until I experienced that very sensation.

Talking to Vex about Dede, Bedlam, the past, would normally have made me nervous, and perhaps made me wonder if I wasn’t hatters after all for trusting someone else with my secrets, especially someone I hadn’t known for very long. Instead, I felt a strange kind of peace at having let it out. The world hadn’t ended. No one had hauled me off to Newgate. I felt lighter – unburdened. I also found my desire to discover the truth for myself refocused. Maybe I didn’t want to believe that aristos – vampires in particular – were behind some of these awful things, but I couldn’t hide my head in the sand.

But I needed … no, I had to find out what had happened to Simon. I wasn’t going to have his blood on my hands for naught. I also owed it to Dede to treat her claims about Ainsley as though they might be true.

And I owed it to Church to take what Vex said about him with a bucket of salt, just as I owed Vex the same. In fact I reckoned I owed Vex a tad more than that. He trusted me with the truth about his son, and accorded me more respect than anyone had in quite some time. Church was good to me, but he still treated me as though I were a child – to be protected and coddled.

Vex and I went back to bed after we’d talked. I needed … something. Reassurance, perhaps? Validation? Comfort? Regard less, we had something of a desperate shag and passed out wrapped around one another. He felt warm and solid next to me, and I realised how much I had craved just that. It was a little pathetic really, my needing someone to lean on. It had been a long time since I felt as though someone had my back rather than me always having theirs.

By the time we woke up, Scotland Yard had Simon’s body. This we found out from the news on the box. Missing halvies didn’t garner quite so much attention, but a dead one sure did – especially on a conservative human news programme that was all too happy to report the death.

“Sick bastards,” I muttered.

Vex shrugged, and I allowed myself to enjoy the sight of his shirt pulling tight across his broad shoulders. “They’re afraid of us, and it’s always been human nature to hate that which frightens them.”

My jaw dropped. “You’re not condoning this.” I jerked my thumb at the screen.

Harsh laughter came in response. “No. I don’t think death is anything to celebrate, but I understand why they do it. We have no idea how long our lifespan is. Humans know they have an end coming – even you will outlive most humans by an entire lifetime.”

“If I’m lucky,” I replied. There were Royal Guards who had lived to see retirement, but a greater number had died in service. That thought had the opposite effect on me than it should have. “I need to go back to work.”

His gaze was sharp. “You’re in mourning.”

Oh, right. Wouldn’t do to have me break protocol. Someone might get suspicious. “And it’s driving me hatters. I need to be doing something, not sitting around with my thumbs up my arse.”

“Do you actually do that?” he asked with a saucy grin. “Because I’d like to see it.”

I rolled my eyes at him. “You’re such a dog.” Literally. “Seriously, I can’t take much more of this.”

“Then tell them you want to go back to work. Petition Her Majesty. She’ll probably side with you. She continued to run the country after Albert died.”

He had a point – one worth pursuing.

“I’ll talk to my father; maybe he’ll plead my case.”

Vex leaned back, stretching his arm across the top of the sofa. “Alpha trumps duke in aristocrat hierarchy. I’ll talk to her if you want.”

My surprise must have shown, because he took one look at my face and chuckled.

“You’d do that?” I asked. “But then she’ll know we’re … friends.”

“Oh, is that what they call it these days?” His grin softened the caustic edge of his words. “Call me old-fashioned, but I was of the notion that we were doing something they used to call ‘dating’, or, if you want to go back even further, ‘stepping out’.”

For what it’s worth, I loved the way he said “out” in that sexy brogue of his. “Fine. She’ll know we’re stepping out with one another.”

“I imagine it hasn’t escaped her notice, given that it’s already made the gossip rags.”

Another valid point. There was nothing left for me to say. “Thank you.”

His eyes shone with a vaguely golden sheen. “Come over here and thank me properly.”

It would have been ungrateful of me to refuse, so of course I did as he commanded. Snogging was fantastic for passing time, and Vex took my mind off everything else.

I might not be ready to put my entire life in his hands, but I trusted him. Part of me figured I didn’t have much choice. I had to trust someone, and so far he had been the one to share more of himself with me.

He went off to fetch us something to eat, and I went to my desk and started up my Ava. The logic engine immediately leapt to life when I flicked the power switch. I’d paid a lot of quid for the bloody thing, but I did appreciate her speed. I sat down as the main page for my Aethernet connection popped up, and typed ‘DUNCAN MACLAUGHLIN DEATH’ into the search bar. I hit the return key and waited.

Two seconds later I was reading a news story about the murder. I’d gotten lucky that it mentioned Vex in it as the one who found the body, because Duncan hadn’t gone by MacLaughlin, but Fraser, which I assumed was his mother’s name. The article referred to him as Vex’s ward. He hadn’t seemed embarrassed about the boy, so why not give him his name? Was it so people wouldn’t know the truth about Duncan’s conception? The contract between aristo and courtesan was considered a marriage of sorts, giving legitimacy to each halvie born under it. Duncan wouldn’t have that.

The article didn’t leave anything out, and came with accompanying photograph of a blood-soaked sheet covering a body on damp cobblestones. Vex stood in the background. The anguish on his face was all the proof I needed.

In fact, I wished I hadn’t seen it.

If Ophelia had been taken for experiments, and Duncan had been killed, why had I led such a relatively safe life? Was it because I had the advantage of being half-vampire rather than half-were? Or was it just dumb luck?

Or, was it as Dede suggested and I was special? I couldn’t believe that. I’d know if I was special, wouldn’t I?

Vex walked in just as I finished the article. I didn’t want him to see it, so I clicked on the exit box. He glanced at the screen as he set a tray of food on the coffee table. “It’s all right. I know that article by heart.”

“I …” what was the right thing to say here? “I didn’t want to make you see it again. I hope you’re not offended that I looked him up.”

“Of course not. Can I assume you believe me now?”

There was the slightest edge to his voice. The MacLaughlin didn’t like having his honour questioned. “I believed you before. I just wanted to see for myself. Everyone’s been telling me to find the truth for myself, so you can’t blame me.” Maybe that was a little defensive, but he would have done the same thing, I was certain.

He nodded, and his shoulders relaxed. “You’re right. I’m sorry, it’s just not the sort of thing I’d make up.”

“I’d hope not.” I got up from the desk and went to him. I put my arms around his lean waist and hugged him. After seeing the article I needed contact, and I reckoned he did too. We stood there for a long time, just holding each other.

A little while later we were finishing off a huge bowl of warm toffee pudding when the bell rang. I wasn’t terribly surprised to open the door and find my brother on the threshold, wearing his inspector face.

“We need to talk,” he stated, brushing past me. The late-afternoon sun hit me full in the face without his body there to block it. I winced as the brightness flooded my eyes. Bloody hell, that was blinding. I quickly closed the door.

“Talk about what?” I asked innocently, as I turned towards him, blinking away the spots dancing in front of my eyes.

“Let’s start with how your blood came to be on a murder victim.” Slowly, the inky splodge that was my brother came into focus. He stood with his legs braced, arms folded over the dark coat of his uniform. He looked menacing.

I arched a brow. “Should I assume the victim was Simon Halstead?” Just saying his name made my throat tight.

Val gave a curt nod. I shrugged. “He was doing blood work for me.”

“What sort?”

“None of your business.”

His shoulders heaved as he drew breath. “Xandy, this is a murder investigation. Everything about this man and your involvement with him is my business.”

“You’re supposed to be on bereavement leave.” I crossed my arms over my chest. It seemed I wasn’t the only one in my family who needed to keep busy. “Am I a suspect? Am I under arrest? Aren’t I a conflict for you? You shouldn’t even be here.”

A muscle in his jaw twitched. “You could be a suspect, yes. What sort of tests were you having him do, and where were you on Tuesday evening between six and eight?”

Between six and eight? That meant that whoever had taken Simon had kept him alive for between three and five hours after he called me. My stomach rolled at the thought of what had been done to him during that time. I had seen the results of some of it. Had he confided to his captors what he had found? Or had he taken my secrets to the grave?

“The tests were of a personal nature,” came Vex’s voice from behind Val. “And she was with me on Tuesday.”

Val turned. “No offence, my lord, but the questions were intended for my sister.”

Vex’s spine straightened. He was a fair bit taller than my brother – and much broader. “No offence, lad, but if the Yard knew you were here, investigating a case that involved one of your family members, you’d be reprimanded and most likely suspended.”

Brilliant. A pissing contest. Just what I needed. “I asked Simon to test me for any signs of mental illness,” I blurted. “And Vex is right, I was with him Tuesday night.” To be honest I couldn’t remember where the hell I’d been that night. I didn’t even know what day it was.

Dull red seeped into my brother’s cheeks. He never liked discussing emotions or anything that had to do with mental health.

I used his discomfort to my advantage. “With my mother and now Dede, it’s a valid concern, Val.” Amazing just how easily that lie rolled off my tongue.

He cast a sideways glance at Vex as he rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. “All right, all right. Are you okay, then?”

“Yeah,” I replied, shaking off the guilt. “Yeah. I’m good.”

Then my brother surprised me. He turned to Vex. “My lord, would you mind giving us a moment of privacy?”

I was about to chastise him for his rudeness, but Vex bowed his head. “Of course.” He turned and walked towards the kitchen. It wasn’t as though he couldn’t eavesdrop if he wanted.

“That was boorish,” I hissed when we were alone.

“I don’t care,” he shot back. “What the great ruddy hell is going on? As soon as that blood on Halstead was identified as yours, I was told to leave it alone and the entire thing was given over to Aristocrat Affairs. They put Churchill in charge.”

My stomach dropped. “Bugger.” Those were the big guns. They were strictly aristo business and aristo-run. They answered directly to the Queen. The only good part of this news was that Church was involved. He’d be calling next, no doubt. “I take it you’ve gone back to work, then?”

He ignored that, dark eyes boring into mine. “Tell me you’re working on something top secret. I really don’t want to think you’re involved in something so shady that Victoria’s right hand is watching you.”

“It’s neither,” I replied truthfully. He was legitimately worried for me, and I hated not being able to tell him everything. “Val, I don’t know what’s going on. Unless AA view me as a suspect, I can’t think of a reason for their involvement.”

“Really?” my brother challenged in a peevish tone. “You can’t think of one?”

“No.” I didn’t feel even a little bit guilty for lying to him. AA had taken him out of this, and I was going to keep him out of it. I had already lost Dede; I was not going to lose him too.

“Bugger.” Val ran a hand through his thick indigo hair. His gaze snapped back to mine. “You’re certain you’re not in trouble?”

I almost laughed. His tenacity made him a good inspector, but it was a pain in the arse right now. I jerked my head in a forced nod. “I’m certain.”

He looked relieved, so much so that I knew I would never be able to confide in him. He’d want to fix everything – and to Val that meant abiding by the rules and the laws. I had already broken several of each. He could never know about Dede, the goblins, Bedlam, Vex – any of it.

So I pushed aside my feelings of guilt as he kissed me on the forehead, and told myself I’d lied to him for his own good, to protect him. What he didn’t know about Simon couldn’t get him in trouble. What he didn’t know about Dede couldn’t break his heart.

And what he didn’t know about me couldn’t get him killed.

My first night back to work was the Buckingham Palace Platinum Ball in celebration of the 175th year of the Queen’s reign.

I had no illusions as to why I had been allowed to return to work. Vex had indeed gone to Queen Victoria on my behalf, and apparently Her Majesty did express admiration of my dedication to the Crown, but the simple fact remained that this celebration was incredibly high-risk as far as a human attack went. They needed all the protection they could get.

But if I was allowed back to work then Aristocrat Affairs couldn’t view me as much of a suspect in Simon’s murder. I wouldn’t be allowed within a hundred yards of the palace if I were.

Val was there as well. He wasn’t in uniform, but in evening clothes, greeting and screening the guests as they moved through the hounds, testing for silver and other weapons, even though most of the guests were halvies and aristos. There were a few humans in attendance, however – members of the human division of parliament. They’d be the ones I’d watch closely that night. I always watched them.

Val looked as surprised to see me as I was to see him. I handed him the Bulldog before I went through the detector, as was procedure. “You look nice,” he said when he gave the gun back to me.

“Likewise.” I tucked the weapon into the holster hidden in the bustle of my black silk gown. Regardless of being allowed to return to work, I still had to adhere to mourning dress, as did Val, who was in head-to-toe black rather than the usual black and white. “Avery here too?”

He nodded. “Came in about five minutes ago with Lord and Lady Maplethrope. Lady M asked her to accompany them tonight, said she’d feel safer. Halstead’s murder’s being pinned on humans, and it’s got the entire peerage on edge.” Like Dede, Avery was Peerage Protectorate. Viscount and Viscountess Maplethrope were her clients. From what I understood, she quite liked them, and they treated her extremely well.

“Bad form,” I said with a frown. “Asking her to break mourning. They’re saying humans killed Simon?”

My brother arched a brow at my surprised tone. “Who else would have done it? And I don’t think either of us has the right to comment on proper mourning behaviour.”

I forced a smile. “I suppose not.” And then, since I didn’t want to talk about Simon’s death, and I was holding up the line of aristocrats behind me, “Be sharp tonight, Val.”

He patted me on the shoulder. “You too.”

The skirts of my gown swished around my low-heeled black boots. I had to lift them as I climbed the crimson-carpeted staircase. I was on the left bank as I ascended, rather than the right, where invited guests made their entrance. This segregation allowed me to go directly into the ballroom rather than wait to be announced. I passed Avery as she waited in the line with her lord and lady. I waved and she blew me a kiss. She wore a velvet gown so black it didn’t even shimmer in the light. She would have a small arsenal in her bustle as well, and probably a dagger in her garter. Mine was tucked into my boot.

Humans. They were blaming this on humans. I shouldn’t be surprised. A few days ago and I would have swallowed that story like ice cream, but I’d seen the body. I’d been there when the goblins said he’d been killed by vamps. Goblins didn’t lie, but could they have been wrong?

Or were the real killers simply trying to cover their arses? I couldn’t be distracted by this now. I had to stay sharp. If I didn’t do my job tonight, people could get killed.

The ballroom was by no means crowded when I entered, but it was filling. Most of the aristocracy clung to the notion of being fashionably late, but they also knew better than to keep Her Majesty waiting. In less than an hour this room would be packed with not only England’s highest-ranking citizens, but also many from Ireland and Scotland as well – even some from other European houses.

The red carpet that usually covered the floor had been rolled up to reveal a highly polished surface perfect for dancing. Overhead, crystal chandeliers lined both sides of the ceiling, and accompanying wall sconces contributed to the golden glow cast over the space. At the far end of the room, two thrones sat side by side beneath a gilt arch. The Queen would sit in one of them. Perhaps the Prince of Wales would occupy the other – a seat that had once belonged to his father, Prince Albert. The thrones were two items that had been saved from the fire that ravaged the palace during the insurrection.

To the left of the thrones, in the corner of the room, the small orchestra played something by a composer I recognised but couldn’t identify. There would be no modern music for the next several hours – Her Majesty wasn’t a big fan of anything written after 1915. Social gatherings were one of those things about which Queen V remained steadfast, and she liked them to be comported in a certain manner – hers. Though, she had conceded to having electricity installed when the palace was rebuilt.

I stood off to the side, watching the guests – dressed in the style of court reminiscent of 1887 – as they mingled and a steady stream of others trickled in. It was a river of men in black and white, the women in shades that would put a peacock to shame, corseted and coiffed.

Most of them were as devoted to the old ways as Queen V was, arriving in horse-drawn carriages, wearing pounds of petticoats, the men with mutton chops. But their homes had electricity and running water. They listened to recorded music and watched the box. Aristos enjoyed comfort as much as the rest of us, but they needed to keep some of the past with them. I think it stopped them from feeling like antiques.

Or freaks.

Their names and titles were as familiar as the back of my own hand, though some I had not heard in several years. I, along with the rest of the RG, had been briefed on those visiting from other houses across the Continent. This was an auspicious occasion, after all. Victoria was the first monarch of her kind to have ruled this long.

I checked names against faces, as did my colleague on the other side of the door. There would be Guards downstairs as well, scattered throughout the palace, patrolling the grounds, watching from rooftops and lorries parked on the street. All of us were armed, prepared to risk our lives for our nobility. Avery only had to protect her family, but every aristo under this roof was my responsibility – and the responsibility of every RG – for the rest of the evening.

“You know, you’re very sexy when you’re serious.”

I smiled and a shiver danced down my spine at the sound of Vex’s voice. “Is that so?” I asked, keeping my attention on the increasing crowd. “I’ll have to remember that.”

“Aye, you should.” He stood beside me, and I appreciated that he took care not to obscure my view of the room. “So, are you on duty all evening?”

I nodded. “Until Her Majesty tosses you sorry lot to the kerb. Why?”

He shrugged, all predatory grace as muscles shifted beneath his black jacket. What was it about a black suit and white shirt that complimented almost any man who donned them? He even wore a cravat, impeccably knotted around his neck. An easy grin curved his lips. “I thought maybe I might squire you on to the dance floor at some point.”

I hid my pleasure with a coyly arched brow. “Wouldn’t such squiring set tongues to wagging?”

His gaze locked with mine – warm and seductive, with just a hint of gold in the faded blue. “I don’t care. Neither should you.”

Maybe it was the fact that he was a wolf. Or perhaps I was caught up in the nineteenth-century atmosphere and was having an attack of feminine delicateness, but fang me, he was sexy when he put on the alpha.

I smiled. “All right. I can take a break around one. Come and find me.”

“I will.” His gaze continued to smoulder. “And when this is over, I think you should come home with me.”

I started. As in to his house? I didn’t know why, but the invitation threw me. That said something about the amount of trust he had in me if he was going to take me to where he slept. That, or he meant to kill me. “Are you sure?”

The amusement on his face might have stung were it not tempered with genuine warmth. “I’ll meet you downstairs.” Then he took one of my gloved hands in his much larger one and raised it to his lips. It was official – I had time-travelled back a century. All I needed was Mr Jones and his privacy box.

My pleasure diminished, however, when I happened to glance towards the entrance – I was on duty, after all – and spied the couple who had just been announced.

“What is it?” Vex asked.

Silently I berated myself for not having hid my reaction better. “Ainsley,” I replied in a low voice as my gaze followed the slim aristocrat and his petite wife. Both of them were incredibly pretty – doll-like, almost. I never understood what Dede saw in the dandy, but then she would wonder the same about me and Vex.

“Isn’t he …?” Vex stopped.

I glanced at him, mouth thin. “The man my sister tried to kill? Yes.”

“Did he deserve it?”

I turned my attention back to Ainsley in all his blonde, blue-eyed perfection, and watched as he conversed with other guests as though he hadn’t a care in the world. I thought about Dede and how she had wept for him after she lost the baby. He never came to see her.

“Yes,” I replied.

“Then it’s too bad she didn’t succeed.”

I could have kissed him for that. “Indeed. You should go and mingle.”

He nodded, not the least bit offended by my dismissal. He left me with a squeeze of my hand and the promise to collect me later. I allowed myself the pleasure of watching him walk away for no longer than two seconds before putting my attention firmly back on my job, where it belonged. Just as well, because at that moment, Churchill was announced. It didn’t matter that I was no longer his student; if he caught me slacking, he’d ream me for it.

Pale eyes searched the crowd before settling on me. He seemed surprised to see me, but nodded in greeting regardless. I nodded back as I switched on the small device tucked around and in my right ear. It worked in a similar fashion to a rotary, only the line was shared by every Royal Guard in attendance.

It was quarter to the hour; all the guests would be expected to be in attendance at that time, and the doors would be shut precisely on the hour. Her Majesty would make her appearance at half past. The communication device in my ear made it easy for all the RG’s to alert one another to any possible threat.

One by one, all fifty of us on duty – our full ranks – reported in, letting the rest know we were on the job and accounted for. As I did before every society event, I sent up my usual little prayer/mantra/what-have-you that there would be no problems tonight.

I remained at my post by the door, watching the line of guests trickle to a few stragglers, then to nothing. Over my earpiece I heard a co-worker confirm that the palace doors were shut and secured. Everyone on the guest list had arrived and no one else would be granted admittance for the remainder of the evening.

That was my cue to start patrolling. Usually I preferred to work both interior and exterior security, but since the event was locked down, the guards were stuck doing one or the other. There were RGs outside right now who envied those of us inside, and in a way, I envied them. At least out there you didn’t have to witness all the fun in which you weren’t allowed to take part. I’d only get away with dancing with Vex because of who he was – not like I could refuse him.

About half an hour after we were locked in, Queen Victoria made her entrance to much applause and bowing and curtsies. My spine snapped straight like the leg of a card table when the fanfare began. A voice in my ear told us all to be on guard.

In heels she might have been five foot two, if that. The plague kept her appearance the same as it had been when she was in her late twenties, so she was fairly slim, with long, lustrous brown hair that she wore piled up on top of her head in an elegant knot. She had a round face with large blue eyes, a slightly aquiline nose and a small mouth. Her skin was so fair she looked like a china doll, though she could never be likened to one in any other way.

She was the most powerful being in the country – in the world, I suspected – and she looked like a waif. I, like everyone else, was in shameless awe of her. When she passed by, I curtsied so deeply my knee brushed the carpet. I should have bowed my head, but I had to keep a watchful eye. Queen V gave me a once over and then nodded, and I felt the recognition and weight of that condescension. Obviously she approved of my return to work and continued observation of the proper mourning rites.

Fang me, but I don’t think she had acknowledged me since the day I graduated from the Academy – and then she’d treated me the same as everyone else. I noticed two of my fellow RGs glancing at me as though they were jealous. Idiots. If my new-found celebrity status with Vex didn’t earn me their scorn, this would for certain. It wasn’t as though I asked for it, or went out of my way to attract notice.

She walked to the back of the room, where her throne – and Albert’s empty one – waited for her. Before she sat, she looked out at us all. The band had fallen silent, as had everyone in the room.

“We are very pleased to see you all tonight,” she began, in a surprisingly strong, clear voice that carried throughout the hall without the aid of amplification. “On this momentous occasion, we thank you for celebrating with us and take a moment to remember those who are no longer with us.” En masse we all glanced at Albert’s vacant throne.

“For almost two centuries have we reigned over this vast empire,” she continued. “We have seen many changes and have shared many experiences – some more poignant than others. But what has never changed is our love for our country and our people, and so let this night be a celebration not just of how many years we have ruled, but of how many years we have endured, and will continue to endure.”

The applause was thunderous. Victoria was not what one would consider verbose, but she made every word count. I clapped until my palms stung and then watched her take her place on her throne. She would sit there for the remainder of the evening, giving audience to guests who wanted to wish her well, and overseeing the proceedings. I would not speak to her. Only aristos were given leave to speak; we halvies were there to work.

Over the course of the evening I admit my attention slipped. Occasionally my mind would trick me into thinking I saw Dede, or even Ophelia, in the throng. My heart would give a great leap of terror, and I’d experience that chest-crushing paralysis, only to then realise I was a plonker. A few other times it was Vex who drew my eye. I watched him dance with what seemed like a legion of eligible ladies but in reality was probably only five or six. That low aristo birth rate really cut back on the number of debutantes each year.

My gaze jumped to Ainsley and his wife, who were also dancing. If Dede had indeed given birth to a fully plagued child, that would certainly be an advancement in increasing aristo numbers. Given the desire for “pure” blood, it would explain why Ainsley would pass his lady off as the child’s mother.

It would also explain why someone would have an interest in unusual halvies. Why someone might want to experiment on them.

F*ck. It was like a flash bulb going off inside my head. I had to keep myself from running up to Vex, yanking him away from deb number whatever, and telling him my suspicions. This wasn’t about hurting halvies, or even using them as guinea pigs. If aristos were truly behind these atrocities – such as letting goblins rape halvies – then it was like a darker part of the Pax. The government tried to sell monitoring human DNA as a good thing for humans, but it was simply a way for aristo-backed scientists to weed out those who carried the plague and see if they could be used for the good of all with “royal blood”. This was about increasing aristo numbers.

I came back to myself in time to find Vex watching me with a quizzical expression. I arched a brow at his mousy companion – a full blood were who could probably eat me for breakfast. She didn’t see my look, but Vex did. He winked at me, obviously enjoying the little niggle of jealousy poking at my spleen.

“Did MacLaughlin just wink at you?”

The sound of Church’s voice snapped my shoulders back. That was what I got for letting my guard down. “Probably he had something in his eye, sir,” I replied as I turned my head towards him.

We stood nose to nose. How little he was. Right now his pale blue eyes studied me as though I were an ant beneath a magnifying glass – no emotion, only curiosity.

“You cannot fool me, Alexandra Vardan. I know you better than you know yourself.” I would have liked to argue that point, but he went on. “The rumours about you and the Scots wolf are true. Tell me, is he what brought you so prematurely out of mourning?”

I matched my gaze to his and held it there, no matter how much the bottom of my spine seemed to writhe. “Duty to my queen and a desire to be useful brought me out of mourning, sir. As it did my brother and sister as well.” I kept my voice low. We weren’t far from the Queen, and I didn’t wish her, or those who were paying her court, to hear our conversation.

He clasped his hands behind his back. The stance lifted his chest, made him seem larger. “You’ve been different these past few times we’ve met, Xandra.”

“Losing a sibling changes a person,” I countered. I wasn’t going to admit that being around him confused me. He had changed. He seemed almost offensive with me – as though I had displeased him in some way.

Such as sleeping with a man he hated. Only, this didn’t feel like a fatherly sort of displeasure. He looked at me as though I had wounded him on an emotional level.

“Your blood was on that murdered halvie they found.”

I didn’t flinch, though I might have paled. It felt as though all the blood in my head had run screaming for my feet. “Are you accusing me of being involved in Simon’s death, sir?”

“You must admit it looks suspicious,” he commented, dodging the point.

“Suspicious?” I echoed. He never would have said these things to me before. He would have immediately asked what happened, what he could do to help. No, this was the attitude of a man who wanted to make me squirm just a little. “Is it against the law to have a friend do some blood tests for me?” I hadn’t planned to say it, but what the hell.

“What manner of tests?”

I smiled – a little mockingly, I might add. “I wanted to make certain the insanity that obviously runs in both sides of my bloodline hasn’t affected me as well.”

“There was no indication of any tests found in his office or his computer, or on the body.”

I shrugged, relieved that Simon hadn’t left a paper trail. “He called to give me the results. I went to see him with some questions, only to find him gone.” I didn’t want to confide even this much, but this was Church, for f*ck’s sake. He was the man to whom I’d run with everything from a scraped knee to a broken heart. I couldn’t turn my back on all of that just because fingers had been pointed in his direction, or because he was jealous of Vex.

Jealous over me.

“Were the results satisfactory?”

I met his gaze evenly. He looked genuinely concerned and I felt like a cad for lying to him. I wanted to tell him how sorry I was. “They were, thank you. Sir, I …” I heard something that drew my attention, smelled something that brought my fangs out fast and hard – fear.

I whirled around. The orchestra still played, the dancers continued to dance. Conversation buzzed around us, but my attention went immediately to the one thing that didn’t belong.

Up on the balcony. A human with a rifle – pointed at the Queen.

“Gun!” I yelled, my voice seeming to reverberate around me. As I leapt forward, I was aware of several things at once: the music screeching to a halt, the discharge of the rifle, screams, and how sweet that human bastard smelled.

How the bloody hell could I smell him from where I was?

I moved faster than I ever had before – or at least I seemed to. One moment I was beside Church; the next I crashed to the floor, my shoulder exploding with pain as I took the Queen with me.

I sucked in air, forced myself to reach for the Bulldog hidden in my bustle. Hot blood ran down my left arm. I’d been shot. Damnation, it hurt. Felt like my shoulder was on fire. My head and stomach churned in opposite rotations.

Tetracycline. Fang me, there was tetracycline in the bullet. And the bullet was silver. It had gone straight through – luckily for me. It still hurt like hell.

“Your Majesty, are you all right?” I demanded, positioning myself so I wouldn’t drip blood on her. Plague me, even my eyes burned.

“Quite,” she replied, looking both shocked and relieved. “Young lady, you are most extraordinary.”

I smiled despite the throbbing in my shoulder. “Thanks.”

Church and my father appeared at my side. I told Vardan to look after Victoria, and then I jumped to my feet. I swayed, but just for a second. The shooter was already gone, but I could track him.

It didn’t matter than a dozen RG had already taken off in pursuit. It didn’t matter that Vex was shouting my name as he pushed through the crowd. I knew I could catch the bastard – that I was the only one who could. It was hubris, of course, but I was so high on endorphins it felt like kismet. Those endorphins were the only thing keeping me standing.

Hitching my skirts, I ran, following the heavenly scent – which had only grown stronger. Had human fear always smelled this delicious? And how did I know that that was what I smelled?

The others had gone up to the balcony first. That was a waste of time. If the shooter had been smart enough, and stealthy enough, to get inside, then he was smart enough to have an escape route planned – a quick one. I knew it as soon as I found it.

He had gone out through a window – there was a length of grappling cable hanging outside the glass. How had he even got in? Every staff member was a long-term employee, and had been screened before the event. Guards patrolled outside, watched every entrance and exit despite all of them being securely locked.

But one of them couldn’t have been secure. Either that or someone had let the human in. One way or the other, this was going to reflect badly on my people. We were supposed to prevent this kind of thing, and one of us had f*cked up – royally, to be perfectly accurate.

I swung out of the open window below the balcony, dropping easily to the ground. My shoulder seemed to be going numb, though it was probably shock. Soon my body would start repairing itself, but the drug’s properties would have the opposite effect on me from what they had on non-plagued blood, and would slow the process down. It was a powerful weapon when trying to kill a halvie or an aristo, fighting our blood as though it was a sickness.

The would-be assasin wasn’t far ahead. As I raced past the few halvies who had beaten me outside, I could hear him gasping for breath, the lumbering, graceless slapping of his boots on pavement. And I could smell him – like a cake straight from the oven, or a fresh cup of chai. My mouth actually watered.

My lips peeled back from my teeth as I ran, forced back by the fangs extending from my gums. I could stop, raise my right arm and put metal in the human, but I didn’t want to shoot him. I wanted to take him down and rip out his throat – but I’d settle for just a little taste before turning him over to Scotland Yard.

He ran into a Met station. I followed close on his heels, dimly aware of humans stopping to stare, or cry out as I raced by – a crazed halvie bleeding like mad and waving a gun almost as big as my head. Two tourists got in my way, almost toppling me over as they stopped to take a photo. The flash momentarily blinded me, scalding my sensitive eyes. I stumbled, blinked rapidly and pushed on, spots dancing in front of me.

My prey ran below, pushing his way through the normal underground crowd. They cleared a path for me, and when the human jumped the platform, running for the dark of the tunnel, I ran too.

He glanced behind, saw me and gave a little cry of distress. The glint of metal in the darkness, and then a flash. He fired at me, but missed. Terror didn’t exactly make for an accurate shot.

I reached for him. He could shoot me again if he wanted – I’d survive, at least long enough to finish him. Behind me I heard the pounding of halvie feet – at least a dozen backing me up.

The shooter fired again. Then another report – someone had answered from behind me with a shot of their own. I was sure he’d missed, but then I felt a familiar heat in my chest – or was it my back? – knocking me off balance and making me careen into the rough stone wall.

I struggled for breath and was rewarded with what felt like a building sitting on my breast. The bullet had collapsed my lung, and hadn’t had the manners to go right through me. It was inside, filling me with its poison.

Poison that was taking me down much further than it ought to have. Staggering, I tried to push off the wall and take up the chase once more, but I couldn’t. I stumbled to my knees. I was on the tracks, and any moment there would a train. I could feel the vibration beneath my palms.

I was going to die.

Out of the darkness came the scent of fur and smoke. Strong furry paws clutched me, pulled me up on to a ledge and further into the shadows. I heard the pounding of footsteps – someone running through the tunnel. Then more running – this time several people. I might have called out, but a paw over my mouth stopped me. It smelled of dirt and strangely of coffee.

Quickly my eyes adjusted to this new darkness. I blinked and looked around me. I was surrounded by goblins. The prince stood in front of them, eye glowing in the darkness. “Xandra,” he said, “you bleed, pretty.”

And then he licked his chops and everything went black.