God Save the Queen

CHAPTER 16

MORALITY, LIKE ART, MEANS DRAWING A LINE SOME PLACEAt that moment I thought my heart might give up and stop beating, it was so completely broken. It hurt. F*ck me, it hurt so bad.

How could Church have this information unless he was the one who killed Simon? The suspicion had occurred to me, but seeing this made it real, not just paranoia.

Quickly I sorted through the rest of the folder. There were photographs of me from birth right up to a few weeks ago – candid photos. I hadn’t even been aware of being photographed. Every injury was noted, every event – including the date of my first period. Perv.

But more importantly, there were the results of all the blood tests Ophelia had asked about. They monitored everything about me, including the fact that I seemed perfectly normal despite my “tainted” blood. On one sheet, in red ink, it was written that I “responded well” to the supplements, which were designed to “inhibit” any potential goblin behaviour.

That would explain why things began changing when I stopped taking them.

There was more – so much more I couldn’t process it. I couldn’t take it all in – it was too much.

There was a digital processing machine on a sideboard near the heavy wooden desk. I went to it and scrolled through my rotary for Vex’s number. I dialled the corresponding digits on the face of the machine, and began feeding pages into the slot. I didn’t bother with photographs, just the pages that seemed important. Church’s set-up was state-of-the-art and incredibly fast, but it still took a good quarter of an hour to send it all.

I should have taken it all home and sent it from there – that would have been the smart decision. If I’d done that, I wouldn’t have been at the machine when Churchill walked in. I hadn’t heard him over the digital processor. He was that quiet, and I was that distracted.

“Good evening, Alexandra.”

I jumped. Before I did anything else, I jabbed the buttons to erase the transmission history so he wouldn’t see where the pages had gone. Then, without any pretence of trying to lie my way out of the situation, I slowly turned to face my former mentor.

The sight of him, all sharp and dapper in his evening clothes, made me both sad and angry. “Hullo, Church. The party at Chesterfield house let out early, did it?”

He stripped off his gloves. “What are you doing here?”

I held up the file. “A little light reading.”

His shoulders slumped a little. He looked younger, boyish almost. It didn’t suit him. “I wish you hadn’t found that.”

“You’re not even going to attempt to deny it?”

“Deny what, my dear?”

“This.” I shook the file at him. “Aren’t you going to tell me it’s all a misunderstanding?”

Hands in his pockets, he moved towards me. I took an instinctive step back – right into the sideboard. “You’re not stupid, Alexandra. You’ve read it, were obviously smart enough to copy it. What could I say to make you doubt your own eyes? I’d have to lie, and I so hate lying to you.”

“You’ve done a good job of it the last couple of decades.”

“Yes, well … that was necessary.”

“Necessary for who?”

“For you, of course.” He seemed surprised I would even ask. “All I’ve ever done is try to protect you.”

My jaw literally dropped. “You shot me in the bloody back!”

Church sighed. “To keep you from catching up with Victoria’s would-be assassin.”

Fang me, he wasn’t even going to deny that either. “Why? You shot him too. Thankfully you did a better job on him than me.”

“Yes, well I didn’t want you dead. I regret you were as badly injured as you were. Still, the prince took care of you.”

I stared at him. Had I heard him correctly? “Did you … were you involved in the assassination attempt, Church?”

He smiled at me. “My dear girl, if I was, do you think I’d admit to it? Besides, you ruined that plan, didn’t you?” His gaze sharpened.

He had been involved. An icy-hot sensation spiked down my legs to pool in my feet. I had adored this man. Part of me still did, despite the fact that I didn’t know the real him at all. “What purpose could possibly be served by the death of the Queen?”

“Hypothetically?” he queried with an arched brow. “Change. The Great Insurrection should have been a well-learned lesson for aristocrats. We are the superior race, yet we hide away like rats. We throw bones to the humans because they outnumber us and we don’t want another rebellion. Victoria refuses to see that another revolution is coming. Aristocrats should be strong, inspiring. Instead, we let half-bloods defend us. Once we were glorious, fearsome creatures. Now, they write romances and make foolish teen films about us. Is it any wonder the humans seek to overthrow us?”

“Killing the Queen would only give humans that much more power.” Bedlam would love it if Victoria had been killed. That sort of tragedy would weaken the aristocracy.

“Prince Albert Edward would unite us as a whole.”

“The Prince of Wales knows you tried to kill his mother?” This was becoming a kind of paranormal melodrama.

He shrugged. “I didn’t try to kill anyone.” Did he think I was wearing some sort of listening device, recording his words? “But even you must admit we need change, Alexandra. You, and others like you, are key to that change.”

My heart squeezed into my throat. “There are others like me?”

“Not quite like you, no. Not yet.” He smiled – a mysterious little twist of his thin lips. “But there are other unique half-bloods out there, contributing to the betterment of our kind.”

I thought of the cells in the basement of Bedlam. I thought of Vex’s murdered son. “Are these halvies willing participants in this plan of yours?” Christ, this was too much. “Church, how can you be a part of this?”

The sharp jut of his cheekbones flushed. “If not for me, they would have put you in a cage years ago.”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better? How long have you known what I am?”

“Since the prince tried to grab you. I couldn’t let anyone find out the truth.”

“Why not?” I demanded. “What did I ever do to deserve such condescension?”

Church blinked. “You’re my special girl. You always have been.” He came forward, and I edged to the left, closer to the door. “You must know I’d never let anything happen to you.”

“Other than shooting me in the back.”

“None of this would have happened if you hadn’t gone looking for Dede. Where is she, dear girl? Poor mad Drusilla. She needs help.”

At one time I would have confessed everything to him. “She’s dead.”

He cocked his head to one side. His perfectly groomed and pomaded hair didn’t move. “We both know that isn’t true. She wouldn’t leave the child.”

The metaphorical knife twisted in my chest. “Did you do that?”

The gleam in his eyes turned sympathetic. “Everything I do is for the good of my kind, Alexandra. Dede could help us increase our numbers. If aristocrat and half-blood matings can produce viable births, think of what that means. The human side is negated, and a half-blood is already of noble blood. Studying half-bloods, especially those with unique characteristics, we can continue on.”

Bitterness flooded my tongue. “So we’re just lab mice to you, then?”

“Not you. You’re so much more.”

“I’m a goblin.”

“You are more than one of those monsters. Alexandra, you’re a miracle!” He suddenly became animated – like an old automaton wound up for the first time in decades. “You have all the advantages of being fully plagued without the defects that goblins suffer. You are the beginning of something wonderful for the aristocracy. You are hope.”

That was the second time someone had referred to hope in relationship to me. The first time had been the goblin prince.

I opened my mouth, but Church cut me off. “You are going to be the salvation of the aristocracy. You and me.”

Oh, fang me. He was not hinting at what I thought he was, was he? He was. I could tell from the pervy way he looked at me. “Church …” I licked my lips. “I don’t think of you in that way. You’ve always been a father to me. Besides, I’m seeing Vex.”

His face darkened. Perhaps mentioning Vex hadn’t been the smart thing to do, but I wasn’t exactly thinking clearly right now. “Do you think he loves you as I do? I’ve spent your entire life preparing you for this moment. I have moulded you into exactly what you are supposed to be. I won’t lose you to some barbaric wolf.”

“I’m not yours to lose.” In all the years I’d known him, I’d never thought of him in a sexual manner. Sure, I’d crushed on him when I was young – all the girls had – but that had gone away. I had idolised him, not lusted for him. He was more my father than my father ever had been. The idea of him putting his hands on me … it turned my stomach.

“How is Vex anyway?” he enquired with false sweetness. “Did he find anything useful in the hospital files? Is he any closer to discovering what happened to his son?”

I stared at him, unable to conceal my shock – and fear. I couldn’t even open my mouth. I knew now without a doubt that he had been involved in Duncan MacLaughlin’s death.

Church smiled – gently. “You should tell Ophelia to be more careful in her choice of bed partners.”

Her murdered human. Raj. Had he been a spy for Church?

“Why’d you kill him?” I asked. “If he was feeding you information, he was useful.”

“Did I say anything about killing him?” His eyes narrowed. “The good doctor and I had an agreement, but he had a crisis of loyalty and refused to tell me where Dede was. He also refused to give me further information on the leaders of the insurgents, such as where they hid when not in Bedlam. I decided to terminate our business arrangement after that.”

So he knew Bedlam was involved, but not that it was traitor HQ. And he knew that Dede was alive, but not where she was. Good. My estranged family members were safe for now. At least I could tell Ophelia who had killed her lover. Maybe then she’d forgive me for almost killing her.

“It won’t look good for you or your alpha, fraternising with insurgents, Alexandra.”

Ah, so now he was going to use Vex to try to manipulate me. “It won’t look good for you, Church, when people see video of you dumping Simon’s body, or when they discover that the bullet that almost killed me came from your gun. I’m still the daughter of a peer.”

“When they find out you’re a goblin, they’ll hate you too much to care. I could have protected you from that. I still can.”

His words hurt – not just because they came from him, but because they were true. “And once it gets out that you’re experimenting on halvies, you’ll be arrested, peer or not. I took copies of your research.” Good of me to remind him of that.

“Ah yes, and sent them to …” He moved past me to check the machine. “Vexation MacLaughlin. Too bad about that.”

Ice formed in my stomach. I’d erased the transmission log, but not the last number called. “What do you mean?” Vex couldn’t be part of this. He just couldn’t.

Churchill removed his rotary from his inside coat pocket and dialled a single number before holding the device to his ear. “It’s me.” His cold grey gaze locked with mine. “Kill the wolf.”

Vex could not die. Not because of me.

“I wish it didn’t have to come to this,” Church lamented, tucking his rotary into his pocket once more. “But you give me no choice. I’m not going to let that bastard take what I’ve worked so hard for. What is mine.”

I was included in that. Bastard made me sound like a bloody possession, or a reward of some kind.

I dived for the door, but like any good opponent, Church saw that coming and put himself between me and escape. I barely had time to brace myself for the fist that flew towards me. It caught me on the jaw – the bone cracked from the impact. I flew back, but caught hold of a bookcase. It smashed to the floor, spilling leather-bound editions around me, but at least I was still upright.

My old mentor looked surprised. “Don’t fight me, Alexandra, you can’t best me. I’m a one-hundred-and-thirty-eight-year-old vampire who learned to fight a century before you were born. What are you?”

“Your best student,” I replied, savouring the taste of blood in my mouth as my throbbing jaw began to heal. “And one pissed-off goblin.”

He started at that, and I took the opportunity to launch myself at him, pulling my dagger free from my corset. As much as I wanted to pummel him into oblivion – and maybe rip out his throat – I didn’t have time for this shit. Vex was in danger. So when Church lifted his right hand to block me – meaning to strike with his dominant left – I veered to his right and came up under his elbow with a quick slash.

The ends of his cravat fell to the floor as crimson blossomed and bloomed against his snow-white collar. His eyes widened and his fingers wrapped around his throat. I hadn’t killed him – I would have to take his head clean off for that, and I hadn’t time. He hadn’t expected me to use a blade. He always taught us to use our bodies as weapons, and hadn’t known about my dagger. I wondered if perhaps my mother hadn’t feared something like this might happen when she gave it to me.

As he slumped to the floor, gurgling, I wiped the bloody blade on my trouser leg, shoved it back in my corset and took several steps backwards. I cast the old man the briefest of glances as I took off at a run. Going through the house would take too long, and there was a chance I’d catch more trouble. Church had already cost me enough time. Instead, I hurtled through the right-hand window overlooking the street. Glass exploded around me, slicing at my clothes and skin, catching in my hair.

I expected to hit the cobblestones hard – and most likely with my head. I landed on my feet, in a crouch, just like in films.

Just like a goblin.

My skin stung where glass had pierced it, but I ignored it – it would heal soon enough. I took off running towards Curzon Street. Vex was either still at Chesterfield House or on his way home. I had to find him before Churchill’s men did.

I ran fast – faster than I’d ever imagined moving. If I thought about it, my feet tangled, so I stopped thinking and just ran. All that mattered was finding Vex. I passed carriages and cars. People yelled at me as I sped by, but I ignored them all.

On the corner of Charles and Curzon Streets I heard snarls and angry voices. I turned right and ran towards the sound. I knew it was Vex. His wolf spoke to that part of me that came from my mother’s altered blood. I made a noise low in my throat that came out as a loud growl. Fighting with Church hadn’t brought out my goblin side – only pissed it off – but it was here now, in gleeful anticipation of spilling blood.

Of protecting what I thought of as mine.

I didn’t fight it, I let it come. I wanted it to come. It didn’t hurt so much when my fangs broke through, thick and sharp. The claws stung, but I didn’t care. I could feel the bones of my face changing. My fractured jaw protested, but gave in, making room for my canine teeth.

It was five on one. Five young vampire and halvie combatants, armed to the teeth, against Vex, who had shifted into a form somewhere between man and wolf. He should have looked hideous, but I thought he was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen – because he was still alive. A sixth attacker lay on the ground, dead. His throat had been ripped open.

Vex glanced at me as I came to his side. His eyes widened, but that was his only reaction. He knew me by scent, and I supposed he was more concerned with staying alive than with what I looked like.

How did Church plan to explain the death of the alpha? Murder was a serious offence, but killing the leader of the wolves would cost him his own life. I had no more time to think about it – thankfully – when one of the halvies charged me. She hesitated for a moment when she saw my face, and that was all the opening I needed. I jobbed her between the eyes, remembering at the last split second to hold back. I didn’t want to kill her, and there was a good chance I’d do just that if I hit her as hard as I could.

She went down with appalling ease for a halvie. If Church had trained this lot, the old man was losing his edge. Another halvie came for me and I knocked him down as well. It took a bit more effort, but not much. All I had to do was slam my skull against his and he crumpled like a puppet with its strings cut.

That left three vampires. I recognised them as lesser peers. One was the offspring of a baronet. Another was a baroness, and the third was the son of a viscount. Part of Churchill’s plan for aristos to aspire to be the “glorious” creatures they used to be?

Given the dead body already on the ground, I knew Vex didn’t share my reluctance to kill. In fact, the way he was toying with the baronet’s kid I thought he was going to kill her as well, but he stopped at rendering her unconscious. She was bleeding, but she’d heal.

That left us one apiece. Fair odds, until the baroness pulled a pistol from beneath her bustle.

“That’s not exactly sporting,” Vex said, his voice a guttural growl that made me shiver – and not entirely in a sexy way.

The vampire glanced at him before returning her attention to me. “I know you. You’re Vardan’s. What the hell are you?”

Fair enough question. One I’d ask myself were the situation reversed. “Me,” I replied with a shrug. I mean, really I was little bit of everything, wasn’t I? “But just so you know, the goblin prince promised that the goblins would go to war with anyone who spilled my blood, and that includes Churchill’s lackeys. Perhaps the question you should ask is whether or not I’m worth dying over.”

Her face went stark white. The pistol turned to Vex.

“Uh-uh.” I wagged a finger at her, silly with power. “Hurt him and I’ll take it personally. Don’t you think the old man’s brought you enough trouble for one night? You can either beg the alpha’s forgiveness for being a stupid cow, and hope he has mercy, or you can die. Or you can take your chances with the goblins. Either way, I’m pretty sure your life’s going to be a lot shorter than you’d planned.”

The pistol lowered. Beside her, the son of the viscount wiped blood from his mouth with the back of his hand and said, “I hear St Petersburg is lovely this time of year.”

“We could still kill you,” the baroness argued. “The goblins wouldn’t have to know.”

I laughed, and called her bluff. “Go ahead and shoot me, then. See how long it takes before the prince rips out your liver.”

She swallowed and tucked the gun underneath her bustle. “Will you let us go?” she asked Vex.

He looked more like himself now, save for the blood around his mouth and the wildness in his eyes. He glared at her as though he would dearly love to taste her blood as well, but being alpha, he was as much ruled by politics as bloodlust. She had asked for mercy, and she was a vampire.

“Leave,” he commanded. “If I see your face again, I’ll rip it off your skull.”

The vampires didn’t need any more encouragement. “Give my regards to Rasputin,” I called as they slunk into the shadows and disappeared from sight. The Russian aristocracy didn’t much like to talk about the Mad Monk. Not aristocratic, he wasn’t entirely human either. Maybe he was like me. Regardless, he was a scary son-of-a-bitch.

“I’m going to regret that,” Vex commented drily when we were alone.

“Maybe,” I replied, “but better that than finding out Church got it all on video.” There was only one dead body on the ground, and it was a halvie. I hated to think it, but a halvie death wouldn’t stir up quite so much trouble. People expected us – I mean halvies – to die. Self-defence was a valid excuse for killing.

“Churchill’s behind this?” Gold glowed in Vex’s eyes. “I’ll tear his f*cking head off.”

If anyone could best Church, it was Vex. And quite possibly me, though he’d probably f*ck with my head so bad I’d cave in.

“Let’s get out of here,” I suggested. “We can talk about it at home.”

We climbed into his motor carriage, leaving the body for the unconscious combatants to deal with when they woke up. There would be traffic along soon as more of the party at Chesterfield house let out. I was surprised no one had stumbled upon us as it was, but then this wasn’t the route most would take. Church would have known that.

A short while later we were in the monstrous tub in Vex’s bathroom, up to our shoulders in hot soapy water. We sat at opposite ends. I stroked his calf while he rubbed my feet.

“So Churchill planned to kill me because he’s in love with you?” The documents I’d sent him had been printed and were on his bed, where he’d tossed them before running the bath. He’d made copies as well, smart man.

“He doesn’t love me.” I groaned with pleasure as his thumbs dug into the ball of my foot. This bath had been a glorious idea – to get us clean and to soak some of the tension from my muscles. “He sees me as a means to an end.”

Vex nodded. “Marrying you would increase his social standing, and if you produced full-blood children he would be seen as a saviour to the aristocracy. Victoria would probably overlook the fact that your mother was once a courtesan.”

Of course Church would be seen as the saviour, rather than me. Wanker.

“And the fact that you’re a goblin.”

My head jerked up. “You knew?” He couldn’t have read it – he had barely glanced at the pages.

He shrugged. “I had my suspicions.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Would you have believed me?” He gave me a kind smile. “It was something you needed to find out for yourself, especially since I wasn’t one hundred per cent certain.”

“And it doesn’t … bother you?”

He ran a big hand up my leg. “To be honest, I find it kind of sexy.”

Smiling, I leaned back against the porcelain, warmed by the water. “Really? You reckon it’s sexy to date someone who could decide to eat you?”

His lips tilted lopsidedly and his eyes began to sparkle. “You can nibble on me whenever you want. Do I get to eat you too?”

Blood rushed to my cheeks – and other places. “Well …” My words turned into a squeal as Vex grabbed both my ankles and jerked me through the water towards him. I had to hold on to the sides to keep from going under. He caught me around the back with one arm and hauled me up so that I straddled him, our chests pressed together. One move of my hips and he’d be all mine.

I hadn’t realised it through all the anger and hurt, but I desperately needed someone. I needed him. He was the one thing I felt I could depend on. Church had made me doubt him – even if it was for just a second – and I felt like shit for it.

“What would you have done if you’d arrived at Curzon Street and they’d got the better of me?”

“I would have killed them all,” I replied, honestly.

That was the end of our conversation. He wrapped his arms around me and pulled my head down to his.

Water was all over the floor by the time we climbed out of the bath. Vex had food and wine sent up and we had supper in his room, where I told him everything that had happened, including my suspicions that Duncan had been experimented on, and my certainty that Church had known about it.

I expected him to fly into a rage, but instead he just looked sad, and I realised I was seeing him as a father whose pain for his son was greater than his rage. I didn’t know what to do for him, so I put my hand over his and sat in silence with him.

A little while later I spoke. “What do I do, Vex? All I have against Church are the papers I copied and my own interpretation of events. It might be enough to start an investigation, but it’s not enough to put Church away. He’s the one who shot Queen V’s assailant, so he’s in her favour at the moment, despite me taking the bullet. And I still don’t have all the answers I want.”

“You may never,” he cautioned. “Make no mistake, though – one of us is going to have to kill Churchill. If not sooner then later.”

“I know.” I didn’t want to think about it. I didn’t want to think about any of it.

“My people and I are here for you, whatever you need.”

“Wolves and goblins,” I said with mock pomposity. “I must be the shit, what?”

He didn’t even crack a grin at my false bravado. “You need to be careful. Christ only knows who else is involved.”

“Do you think I should go public with what I am?” The thought made my stomach drop.

“It would make it harder for some to get to you, but would make you a target for others …” His gaze locked with mine. “Unless you asked the prince for protection.”

I ran a hand through my hair – it was a tangled mess. “I’m not sure I want to broadcast my freakitude. And I’m not sure I want to embrace my inner goblin. Fang me, I wish I had never stumbled upon any of this.”

“If you hadn’t, you might have played right into the vampires’ hands. Your mother and your sisters would be dead. Look, you don’t have to do anything right this minute. Think about it and figure out what to do after the knighting ceremony. You’ll be a lot harder to get rid of with a title attached to your name.”

I flopped back on the bed. “Ever since I was a kid I wanted to be knighted, and now that it’s happening I can’t even f*cking enjoy it.”

Vex reached over and took my hand. He rubbed his thumb over my knuckles. “Enjoy it now. You’re safe here, and you don’t have to worry about anything while you’re inside these walls. Concentrate on some happiness.”

“My God, I love you.” As soon as the words left my mouth I knew how they sounded. I would have said the same to Avery, or even Emma, but it wasn’t to a sister or a friend, it was the man I was sleeping with.

He laughed – a loud bark I felt right down to my toes. “Relax, sweetheart. I’m not going to bolt for the Highlands just because you said the ‘L’ word. I know what you meant.”

My face burned, but I was so relieved. And a titch disappointed. What had I expected? That he’d declare undying devotion to me now and for ever? Bollocks.

I watched as he lifted his hand to my face. He stroked the pad of his thumb between my eyebrows. “Don’t frown, lass. I’m not making sport. I care about you too. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.”

He lay down beside me. I moved so he could slide an arm beneath me and pull me close against his chest. It was amazing, the restorative powers of a hug and a snog.

Afterwards, we went to bed, though dawn was still a couple of hours away. I was bone tired, but not ready to go to sleep. “Tell me what it was like early in the plague. I want to know what it was like to not have rotaries. Do you remember when the first motor carriage was built?”

“Aye, I had one,” he replied, and proceeded to tell me all about it – and how he could run faster than it drove. He told me about parties and events I’d only read about in my history textbooks. His voice and the stories gave me a sense of grounding, as though the entire world hadn’t shifted beneath my feet.

I fell asleep to the sound of his voice describing what it was like to be a wolf on his estate in Scotland, where he had acres to run with his pack, and until I woke up the next afternoon, I forgot to be afraid. I forgot everything.

I hid at Vex’s until the evening of the knighting ceremony. Avery was pissed off that I didn’t come home and let her help me get ready. She thought I was at Vex’s so I could get a regular shagging, not because he was worried that Church might come after me – which surprisingly hadn’t happened. Vex told me to invite her and Emma over for dinner beforehand – as if I could eat with my nerves the way they were.

That was another thing – I had realised that after attacking Ophelia, I’d lost my usual hearty appetite. It returned earlier today, and I wondered if blood sustained me better than actual food. A bit of a disturbing thought, though my stomach growled cheerfully at it.

It was good having my sister there, and Emma too. They helped me get dressed and do my face and hair. Vex had pack business to attend to, so I enjoyed the company. Avery and her chatter made me feel normal again. Like maybe everything was going to be fine after all.

“I wish Dede could see you,” she whispered after pinning the last lock of my hair in place.

Tears threatened, but I blinked them away. “I wish she was here too.” And I did. I would give anything to go back and somehow change it so she never got mixed up with the insurgents. Hell, I’d go back and make sure she never got involved with Ainsley. He was the one who’d ruined her life for her. I’d like to go back and change things for both of us.

“But I’m glad the two of you will be there,” I told them, putting on a smile.

“Val should be here any minute, if he’s not already,” my sister informed me. Her lips curved despite her watery eyes. “You look so beautiful, Xandy.”

I stood up and hugged her. “Thank you. So do you.” She wore black because she was still in mourning for our sister who wasn’t really dead. Emma too, which I thought was quite sweet seeing as how Dede was no relation to her.

I, however, was not wearing black. I was wearing a dove-grey silk gown that was subdued enough to please Her Majesty, and shiny enough to please me. It had a boned bodice embroidered with birds in a darker grey. The skirt was layered, and pulled up in the front to reveal a feathered petticoat beneath. The shoulder straps were wide and left my arms bare, so I tugged on matching gloves that came to just above my elbows. I had boots dyed to match, the heels of which were hourglass-shaped and inset with onyx stones.

Avery had curled and pinned my hair so that it was a huge, elaborate thing adorned with feathers that matched my dress. I wore Tahitian pearls in my ears and around my neck, and I’d done a full face, complete with false eyelashes.

Oh, and I had my gun in my bustle – just in case. And my dagger in my boot.

I hadn’t been so well turned out since graduation from the Academy. I’d lost my virginity that night. Hopefully tonight would prove more satisfactory than that one had.

We went downstairs and found not only Vex waiting for us, but Val too. I gave my brother a good hard hug. It felt like forever since I’d seen him. He looked tired, but otherwise well, and the solid black of his clothing suited his colouring.

Vex had gone all out as well. His thick hair was neat, his jaw freshly shaved. He was dressed in black and white – the standard evening attire for the aristocracy – but instead of trousers he wore a formal black kilt with tall, thick-soled boots.

“You look fetching,” I told him. “Sexy knees.”

He grinned. “Thank you. You don’t think I’ll overshadow you?”

I rolled my eyes and took his arm. “I reckon my ego can take it.”

The five of us took Vex’s carriage to Buckingham Palace. The ceremony used to be held at St Paul’s, but the Queen didn’t like to leave the palace much – not since the Great Insurrection. She had people come to her whenever possible, and since the cathedral was in the more human part of the city, it simply wasn’t safe.

The Royal Guard was out in full force when we arrived. I recognised all of them, and it took me twice as long to get inside because they all wanted to congratulate me. My chest ached with gratitude. I missed my colleagues. I just wanted to get back to work and back to normal as quickly as possible.

I knew that wasn’t going to happen. Tonight, however, I was going to pretend.

The night lit up with flashes as we walked into the palace. Certain reporters from aristo-friendly papers were allowed to photograph particular events. They were subjected to intense security measures, and only allowed so far into the palace, but apparently they thought it was worth the chance to catch a glimpse of the aristocracy. Their papers certainly cashed in on it. Humans might hate us, but a lot of them were fascinated by us. I suppose it had always been that way, even before the plague.

Inside, we were met by my father and his countess. She smiled tightly at me, but her blue eyes were flat and cold. I was surprised she was even here, but it wasn’t for me. She was here for Vardan, and for the press outside.

My father hugged me. “I’m so very proud of you, Alexandra.”

Two months ago I would have melted at those words. I would have teared up. Now … well, I felt somewhat empty. He knew what I was, and he’d let them take my blood and ply me with drugs to keep me looking and acting the way he wanted me to look and act. Any extra interest he’d ever had in me was no more than the attention a child paid to a science project.

“Thank you, Father.” I turned to his wife. “Your Grace, how lovely of you to come. You look very well this evening.” I only said it to force her to speak, and even then she merely thanked me. Cow.

We went into the ballroom – where I’d been shot just a short while ago – and were shown to our seats. There were two other honours being bestowed this evening, and my knighthood was last.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Churchill enter. He met my gaze almost immediately, as though he’d been looking for me. I glared at him, but he smiled serenely and nodded in greeting. I noticed he wore a red cravat, and knew without doubt that he’d done so to intentionally remind me of slitting his throat. He was a bit twisted that way. He was a bit twisted every way.

I wouldn’t say it to anyone, but I was a little afraid as I looked away. Churchill wasn’t a man who gave up. He wanted me as his wife or dead, and he wouldn’t stop until he had succeed. I would never marry him, so that only left him one choice. I wasn’t sure I could kill him if the opportunity arose. I suppose I was a little twisted too, because part of me still loved him.

He sat a couple of rows ahead and to the left of me. Was he here just to make me squirm? He couldn’t actually believe I wanted him here. But then, my wants wouldn’t matter, would they? He was here because people would talk if he wasn’t.

Vex squeezed my fingers. I squeezed back. He might seem relaxed, but I could feel the tension in his muscles where his arm pressed against mine. We couldn’t even enjoy sitting together – and him wearing a skirt with probably nothing underneath.

I barely managed to pay attention during the ceremony. I didn’t care about the other people being honoured. It wasn’t that I was completely self-absorbed; I just kept waiting for Church to jump up and shoot me in the head with a tetracycline-filled bullet. No wonder the one meant for Victoria had hurt so much – goblins were much more susceptible to the drug, and to silver. And I’d gone through life thinking that neither of them was that big a concern.

Finally it was my turn. My knees trembled as I rose and walked to the front of the room, where I took my place before the tiny Queen. She smiled at me – no teeth, of course – and told the room full of people how I was being honoured tonight because I had “bravely and selflessly” put her safety before my own. I had risked my life to preserve hers, and therefore my service to Crown and country was to be rewarded with a knighthood. She then asked me to kneel. I did so, on the padded cushion that had been provided.

She lifted a large, gleaming sword and placed it on my shoulder. For a second I had a vision of her lifting the bloody thing and taking my head clean off my shoulders with it.

Queen V had just started to say the words to complete the ceremony when a commotion rose up in the crowd. My spine went rigid. This was it. This was when Churchill would make his move. My right hand eased behind me, slipping beneath my bustle to curve around the Bulldog …

“No!” came a familiar rasping voice. “The Xandra lady cannot be knighted.”

I closed my eyes. This was worse than Churchill making a move. Way worse. The crowd buzzed loudly with incoherent conversation. Shouts rang out, followed by a growl.

“Silence!” Victoria commanded, her voice filling the room so clearly and strongly my ears rang. “Prince, what is the meaning of this intrusion?”

I turned my head and saw the goblin prince approach. He was the damnedest sight, with his fur neatly groomed, wearing a frock coat and cravat. He did not bow to the Queen. He did not defer. He approached her as an equal, and with a scowl that made him look like a rabid hell hound.

“Not a dame,” he insisted, as though the mere idea was a personal insult against him. “Cannot be. Will not be.”

“And why is that?” Victoria asked in a voice so cold my blood froze.

“Yes,” I murmured. “Why is that?”

The prince heard me and met my gaze. “Because Xandra lady is a queen. Our goblin queen.”