God Save the Queen

CHAPTER 17

TO THE DEAD WE OWE ONLY THE TRUTHI was what?

I staggered to my feet, the movement sending Victoria’s sword clattering to the carpet. Neither she nor I bothered to look where it landed; we were both watching the prince, but while Queen V looked infuriated, I was stupefied.

I’d been outed.

“Is there anything else I need to know?” I demanded of the prince before turning to my paler-than-death father. I tried to ignore the stupefied crowd. “Anything else that’s been conveniently kept from me? Because I’m pretty topped up on surprises.”

The Queen shot me a narrow glance. “Calm yourself, girl. Prince, whatever do you mean, she is your queen? She is obviously not a goblin.”

Now it was about to get interesting. I could deny and earn the prince’s disapproval, or I could face the truth – put it out there so no one else could be hurt because of it.

F*ck me, but sometimes I hated having even the smallest degree of honour. “Actually, ma’am, I am,” I informed her. My voice carried much more than I’d intended, and the gathered audience seemed to gasp in unison. I grimaced.

Slowly, the Queen turned towards me, blue eyes hard as stone. She might be tiny, but she was one scary bitch. “And just when did you discover this interesting biological fact?”

“Recently.” I cleared my throat to get rid of the squeak in my voice. “I don’t know anything about this queen rubbish, I assure you.”

The prince turned his one eye on me. “Told the pretty she could not be knighted.”

“You didn’t tell me why. I thought you were concerned about my safety.”

He turned back to Her Majesty, lip curling back from his fangs.

“Queen trumps dame.”

Victoria hissed at him.

“I am not your queen,” I insisted. Any minute now I expected the two of them to go for one another’s throats. “I can’t be.”

“For years the plague has waited for one to lead us to rightful place. Xandra lady is the one. The plague has worked with blood queen, but now we have our own.” He knelt before me, head bowed. “The plague serves our lady and no other.”

Oh Albert’s bloody fangs. Everyone under the aristocratic blanket – even humans – had a leader who then deferred to Queen V. But the prince had just essentially told our sovereign that she no longer held their allegiance. I did.

“Quite,” Victoria agreed, turning those stony eyes of her on me. I could see that her fangs had come out – tiny and dainty but razor sharp. I entertained the notion of showing her my own. That was what this was all about, wasn’t it? Dominance. The prince had placed me above him, so now Queen V saw me as a threat. “It seems you are indeed the goblin queen, Lady Alexandra.”

And she was not happy about it.

Historically speaking, the monarchy of England did not like it when things didn’t go their way. They especially didn’t like it when another queen showed up and threatened their Divine Rule. Someone tended to lose a head, such as Lady Jane Grey or Mary, Queen of Scots. But it wouldn’t be me, not today. The goblins had claimed me, and anyone who took a swing at me had better be ready to take on the entire plague.

So this was what power felt like. I didn’t want it, but I was glad of it. I’d been shoved into this position by circumstances I’d never invited, but if being the goblin queen kept me alive …

I turned my head to see Churchill’s reaction, but he wasn’t in his seat. Where the ruddy hell had he gone?

I put my hand on the prince’s shoulder. “Get up. Please. I’m not comfortable with you bowing at my feet.” Then to Victoria, “I didn’t know anything about this.”

“That makes two of us,” she replied tartly. “We are not amused by this debacle.”

“You think I am?” I arched a brow. “Your Majesty, my entire life has been turned upside down.”

“We will discuss this in a more private setting at another time, Your Majesty.” Oh, she was very pissed off. Brilliant – because I so wanted another enemy, just to balance things out.

I met Vex’s gaze. He smiled. For a moment I thought I might actually survive this.

“There will be a meeting of the faction heads on Monday,” Queen Victoria imparted. “MacLaughlin, you will attend, as well as the prince and his new queen.”

The prince’s muzzle wrinkled, pulling back from his glistening teeth. He snarled low in his throat. I shivered at the sound – as did three quarters of our audience.

“Our queen does not take orders from a leech.” Right, gobs thought themselves the superior race. That meant they saw me not only as their queen, but as the queen. Furry bastard wasn’t going to keep me alive; he was going to get me f*cking killed.

To my astonishment, Victoria swallowed. Resentment glittered in her eyes when she turned to me. “Your Majesty, are you free on Monday to attend a meeting of the faction heads?”

I wondered what she’d do if I said no. “Yes. Monday is fine.”

She smiled coldly – revealing fang. “Excellent.” She turned to leave, effectively dismissing us all.

“Churchill’s caught a traitor!” a voice yelled.

Perfect timing. The outburst took all the attention off me. Maybe I’d get to sneak out without the press jumping on me. The prince had to know a way out; after all, he’d got in somehow.

Wait. A traitor? My stomach sank as my heart began to pound. There were only two traitors I knew of who might risk capture to see me knighted.

Much of the audience surged to their feet, scrambling in the direction of the voice. I forgot Victoria and the prince. I went to Vex. “I need to see who the traitor is.”

He nodded, but asked no questions. “Let’s go, then.”

We pushed our way through the throng. It was much easier than I’d anticipated, since people gave me a wide berth.

A hand came down on my arm. “Alexandra …” It was my father.

I shook off his hold. “Later.” I had no time for him now. There was nothing he could say that would make this better or excuse his part in it.

A shot rang out as we reached the door. I shoved Earl Spencer out of my way. He flew like rag doll straight into the Duke of Devonshire. I really had to come to terms with this new strength.

Outside the air smelled of humidity, gunpowder and blood. I paused on the steps to search out Churchill, and found him partway down the walk, standing over a body. Flashes went off in a bizarre strobe effect, illuminating the scene with wince-worthy brightness. I caught a glimpse of flat black hair on the ground, and then I saw the traitor’s face.

Oh, f*ck. No. Nononononono. I hitched up my skirt, and ran. My heart struck hard against my ribs, as though desperate to break free. Camera flashes blinded me as I fell to my knees so hard the impact rattled my bones.

“She’s a traitor,” Churchill said very loudly – so that all the reporters could hear. “She even falsified her own death to ingratiate herself to the insurgent cause.”

Familiar green eyes stared up at me, glassy and pained. “Xandy?”

I gathered her up in my arms, not caring about my dress or anything else. “It’s all right, Dede. You’ll be all right.”

Church had shot her twice with silver bullets filled with tetracycline – both in the chest, very close to her heart. I bit my wrist and offered her the blood, hoping to buy her a little time until we could get her to hospital, but as soon as she drank, she began to cough and gag.

I was a goblin, and my blood was toxic. F*ck. How could I forget that?

“Hold on,” I told her, cradling her against my chest as she spewed fresh blood all over the silk of my gown. I looked up, and saw Ainsley watching in horror. His son – Dede’s son – stood beside him, clinging to Lady Ainsley’s skirts. “Call for an ambulance!” I shouted.

“Ainsley …” Dede whispered. She’d turned her head and was now looking at her child. I watched a slow smile curve her bloody lips. “Beautiful boy.”

Tears streamed down my face as I tried to wipe the blood from hers. “Beautiful just like his mum,” I whispered.

She looked at me, and I could tell she was slipping away. The antibiotics and the silver were killing her. My blood was killing her. Her lips parted. The diamond in her front tooth caught the light and sparkled with pink wetness – blood. That damned stone had started this. If not for that I might have thought she was really dead and I wouldn’t have gone after her. This might never have happened if not for me not being able to leave things alone.

Her fingers closed around mine. “Just wanted to see him. I wanted … to see you get … your dream.”

I swiped at the tears on my cheeks and smeared her blood on my skin. “I’m so sorry, Dede.”

“I’m sorry too,” she whispered. “I …” And then she was gone. Just like that, my baby sister was dead, and I was left holding a shell. For a moment, everything went quiet. I looked up and saw easily a hundred faces staring back at me, all of them still and silent. It didn’t last. A flash went off, followed by another, and then the shouting started up again.

The ambulance came. They took my sister out of my arms. I didn’t try to hold on. She was gone.

Suddenly Vex was there, helping me to my feet. He put his coat over my shoulders, and I shivered at the warmth. I hadn’t realised how cold I was. So cold. Dede’s blood soaked my front, stained my skirt and hands. I turned my head and sawAvery and Val. Avery was sobbing in Emma’s arms, and Val … our poor brother just looked shocked. Of course they were shocked – they’d thought Dede was already dead. Our father looked stunned as well. He was pale and shaken. I didn’t fool myself that it was fatherly love. It was scandal. One daughter a goblin, another a traitor – this would affect him socially for the rest of his days. A mark on the Vardan name.

Good.

I let Vex lead me away, despite the people calling my name. Scotland Yard was there. They were friends with Val, they’d look after it all.

But where was the bastard who’d shot my sister? I searched the crowd and finally found him, beside his carriage, talking to a couple of Yard constables. He met my gaze, and what I saw in his made something inside me howl with rage.

He looked sad, as though he felt actual remorse for what he had done. As though he hadn’t had any choice but to kill her. He’d done it to keep the truth about her son secret. He had done it to ingratiate himself with Victoria. She’d never believe now that he was behind the attack on her, not when she saw me as her enemy. No doubt he thought this would keep me in line as well, that I’d back down and keep his secrets.

He thought wrong.

I don’t quite know how much time passed before I was able to go after Church. I let the rage fester inside me until I felt like I might explode, though I kept it contained while I spoke to the inspectors.

I avoided my family as best I could. It wasn’t that difficult, as they were all in shock and staring at me like they didn’t know me any more. In fact, even the press gave me a wide berth. Being a goblin was going to have some perks after all, it seemed.

Shit. The whole world was going to know I was a goblin in a few days. News like this wouldn’t be confined to just London, or even England. Pretty soon my freakishness would be broadcast on an international level. I couldn’t even begin to fathom the ramifications.

Meanwhile, my furry kin had made themselves scarce. The prince had no issue with ruining what should have been the single most important night of my career, but he didn’t want to stick around for the aftermath.

My career. This was going to be the end of it. Only halvies could be Royal Guard. I’d have to give up my badge, my gun. My life.

I turned to Vex, who had stayed by my side the entire time. He was the only one who had. “I need to be alone.”

“Are you sure?” he asked.

I hated lying to him – he was so good. This was going to affect him as well. What would the pack think of him sleeping with a goblin? How long would it be before he was forced to walk away? “Yes.”

“Because if you’re going after that fanged cunt, I want to be with you.”

I brought my hand up to touch his face and stopped – I was still covered in my sister’s blood, though it was sticky and cold now. “I don’t want you involved.” It wasn’t just a matter of revenge; it was politics.

His mouth thinned, but I knew he understood. He understood probably better than I did. “Be careful, and call me if you need me.”

I nodded, gave him back his coat and slipped away. I made certain Church saw me.

There was a tunnel beneath the palace that had both an interior and exterior entrance. It was an escape route for Queen V should there ever be another attack on Buckingham Palace. As a leftenant in the RG I was one of the few people outside the aristocracy who knew where these entrances were located. It was how the prince had managed to get in and out. It was also probably how Church had smuggled his assassin inside.

The external door was within the palace gates, so I didn’t have to be concerned with the press following me. I found it relatively easily, though if I hadn’t known where to look I would have missed it, as it was concealed within a false section of the exterior wall. It was unlocked, just as I had expected. In London, doors that led underground were usually kept easily opened, with the assumption that anyone who chose to use them was taking their life into their own hands. The goblins might not come up to hunt very often, but anything that walked into their territory was considered fair game.

But I didn’t have to worry about that any more, did I? Now people had to worry about me. Imagine the fear I’d inspire as a goblin who could walk in the daylight, who could grab a child whenever I wanted.

I paused just inside the door as it closed behind me. How long before an angry mob of humans showed up at my door with torches and pitchforks? How long before the Bedlamite insurgents, or the vampires, or the weres, decided I needed to be put down?

Let them come, a little voice in my head whispered. You have some of the most terrifying creatures in history behind you. You’re one of them.

But right now I had more important matters at hand.

Stone stairs led below ground. I jogged down one flight, turned and then took another. I didn’t stop until I reached the small platform lit by a solitary light. It was the abandoned mail rail. Extra lines had been installed around Mayfair after the Great Insurrection, so as to provide an escape for aristos in the event of a future attack. Vex and I had travelled on just such a line when the goblins found Simon.

Poor Simon. Had Churchill shown him any compassion before executing him? My friend had died so he couldn’t reveal my secret, but it had been revealed anyway. Church hadn’t figured on the prince coming above ground to claim me. Now his plans of secretly using me to secure the future of the aristocratic – specifically the vampire – nation were ruined.

Thank God.

I slipped the Bulldog from beneath my bustle. The blood on my hands had mostly dried, but was still a little tacky on the metal. Did the old man know I could hear him, even though he was silent as a cat? Probably not. I’d always thought him so quiet; now his footsteps sounded as clumsy as a human’s as he came down the stairs.

I held the gun close to my skirts, out of sight, and waited.

“I thought I might find you here.”

At the sound of Church’s voice, a wave of sorrow washed over me. I turned to see him standing a few feet away, the gun in his hand pointed straight at me.

“And I knew you’d chase me,” I replied wearily. “Why’d you kill her, Church? Just to hurt me?”

“She got herself killed. She should have stayed in hiding.”

“You knew she’d want to see me and the boy.”

“I thought she might, yes. Predictable, your poor sister. I saved her the torture she would have got in Newgate. We both know death was the best thing for her.”

“She was guilty only of faking her own death, nothing more.”

“She aligned herself with traitors, my dear. I’ve already given Her Majesty all the notes from my investigation into Drusilla’s activities. I’d been watching her for some time – not long after she was first approached by Ophelia Blackwood and her traitorous followers.”

Ophelia? So Church didn’t know everything, then. He didn’t know Bedlam was their primary hideout and he didn’t know my mother led them.

I didn’t try to hide my disgust. “I suppose all of this buys you much of Victoria’s favour, doesn’t it?”

“There’s an old saying about joining that which you cannot defeat. She’ll favour me for weakening her enemies. She’ll favour me even more if I fix the problem you now present.”

Of course this was how it was going to go. I smirked. “Oh, Church. Are your affections that fickle that you’d toss me over with so little regard?”

“I’ve loved you since the first day I met you,” he replied, and my heart leapt in surprise. “You have always been extraordinary, but now the world knows what you are. They will hate you and fear you. I can’t protect you any more. I’d rather see you dead than in a cage.”

This was not what I had expected to hear. I hadn’t expected to see genuine remorse on his face. “Am I to understand that as the man in charge, you couldn’t protect me from that?”

“I’m not in charge of those experiments, my dear. The responsibility for that is higher up the food chain than my lowly self.”

Well, wasn’t that just f*cking marvellous. Exactly what I wanted to hear. “You’ll start a war with the goblins.” I had the satisfaction of seeing him pale at that.

“I can take care of the goblins. We should have fire-bombed their den a long time ago.”

My stomach cramped. I’d always hated goblins. Like everyone else I’d been terrified of them, but now that I had a connection, now that I knew I was one of them, the thought of them being wiped out was horrible. Aside from Vex, they were the only ones who accepted me. The prince had done nothing but help me – though it would be a while before I could forgive him for announcing my goblinness to the world.

I’d changed so much in the last few weeks I barely recognised myself at times.

Church raised his pistol. “I am truly sorry it has come to this, Xandra, but you are my responsibility, and if I don’t deal with the problems you’ve made, it won’t go well for me. You either align yourself with me, or we end this. Now.”

So it came down to me or him. Fair enough. It was an easy choice on my part, albeit a painful one. I hated him, but part of me still loved him.

“I used to look up to you,” I told him. My voice was shamefully hoarse. “Every man I’ve ever met I’ve compared to you.”

“Even Vexation MacLaughlin?” His tone was bitter. Mocking.

“Even him. Although I have to say, he wins hands down, Church. You’re pathetic. Pitiful, even. I feel sorry for you. You’ll never be good enough, you know that, don’t you? They will always see you as less than them.”

Flushed, ruddy and dark, he pulled the trigger, but I dived out of the way of the shot – right into one of the mail cars. It was what I’d hoped he’d do. I needed him angry and vicious. It was the only way I could go through with what I had to do.

I pivoted my body and whipped my own weapon up to shoot out the light. The small room exploded into darkness as I struggled upright. I could see in the blackness – not quite perfectly, but better than before; better than Church. I reached into the front of the train and shoved the lever that set the little engine in motion.

Church jumped into another car as the train began to pull away. He wasn’t far behind me, and blindly coming closer. I aimed my gun at him – right between his lying, traitorous eyes. I could end him and avenge Dede right then and there.

But I wanted him to see it coming.

I flicked the safety and shoved the Bulldog into the bustle holster. I was fairly certain Church wouldn’t have heard the sound over the noise of the little train. This thing had to be one of the originals from 1927. Though it had seats installed for Her Majesty and her entourage, the engine hadn’t been refurbished.

Church had almost reached me – the train wasn’t very long. I had my calves pressed back against the engine car, my feet firmly planted on the swaying floor.

We were travelling fast enough that a breeze ruffled my hair. It felt nice, despite the smell of dust and dirt, and old machine. And Dede’s blood. I couldn’t forget that. Not even for a second could I forget that.

For weeks I’d fought to keep a tight hold on my sanity, and now … well, I’d let go of that the moment my sister died in my arms. Whatever I was right now – goblin, halvie, freak – sanity played no part in it. I was full-on hatters and it felt right.

Church had his gun in his left hand when he reached me. I grabbed his wrist and twisted hard. He actually cried out when the bones snapped. The pistol clattered to the floor of the car. A half-blood never would have had the strength to hurt him.

I released his arm and caught him with a right hook. His head flew back, but he didn’t fall. He came back with a right of his own that struck me hard on the side of the head. I’d forgotten that the old man was ambidextrous.

We went through a section of tunnel lit by another solitary light, and I caught a glimpse of him twisting his injured wrist into proper alignment. I bitch-slapped him, and we plunged into darkness once more. He knew exactly where I was now, however.

I blocked his next swing, but was totally unprepared for his skull smashing into mine. Stars exploded in front of my eyes. Bloody bastard. Wanted to play like that, did he?

I brought my knee up, and was rewarded with the feeling of his bollocks squishing like ripe plums against my leg. He doubled over, and I gave his nose the ball of my hand, smiling as cartilage crunched. If the blood on my hands had still been wet, I would have smeared his face with it just so he would have to wear it and smell it as I did.

I could have done more damage, but I wasn’t trying to kill him. I was merely playing.

A glance over my shoulder and I saw that we were almost at our destination. I pulled the handbrake just as Church straightened. The train screeched to a halt, sending him stumbling once more.

“For a vampire, you certainly are a clumsy twat,” I sneered, before vaulting over the side. Bits of brick and broken glass crunched beneath my heels. There had been a light here once, but it had been busted a long time ago and never replaced. On the opposite side of the track, an old oil lamp in a sconce cast a weak glow on the rusty fresco painted on the wall beside it. Next to the painting was a door. I ran to it, pulled it open and ran down the dark stairs.

I stopped at the bottom and listened, waiting for Church to give chase before continuing.

“I’ll get you, you f*cking goblin bitch,” he snarled. All pretext of caring was gone. Good. I needed his hate. Needed to see him for what he really was. He might have thought he loved me, but I was just a stepping stone in his ego’s quest for social elevation.

I laughed. I’d really pissed him off if he’d taken to swearing. “Brassed off that I got the better of you? You’re the one who taught me to fight.” With that I scampered away, running through the dark as sure-footed as any cat. A brick whizzed past my head.

“Try throwing with the hand I didn’t break,” I called over my shoulder, adding a hefty dose of mockery to every word.

I ducked into another doorway – this one roughly forged, chipped away by decades of use and disregard – and waited with my back flat up against the rough wall. The air smelled of dirt and fruit, smoke and fur.

And yes, a hint of pine. A torch burned in each corner of the hall, illuminating little pieces of life the Romans had left behind. If I looked long enough, I’d probably find bits of an actual Roman too.

Church burst into the hall just as I snapped my arm straight out. His throat connected hard with my forearm, sending shock waves all the way to my shoulder. He fell back like a cut tree, hitting the dirt floor with a loud thud. That had to hurt. He’d heal quickly, but for a few minutes he’d have one hell of a concussion.

I bent down and grabbed his ankle. The bone was sharp beneath the silk of his sock. His shoes were Italian leather, now scuffed and dusty. It took a surprising lack of effort on my part to drag him towards yet another doorway – this one a large, uneven hole in the wall. He swore at me, and struggled, but was too stunned to put up much of a fight.

He’d gone down so much more easily than I thought, and it wasn’t because he wasn’t a good fighter. He was. It was just that I had the advantage of being stronger, and hadn’t underestimated him as he had me.

I dragged him into the middle of the floor and dropped his foot. I kicked him hard in the thigh before moving out of striking distance. I watched as he slowly came round and sat up. Cautiously he pushed himself to his feet, weaving slightly.

He looked like hell, his ginger hair mussed, his evening clothes ripped and dirty. Blood was smeared across his upper lip. He looked wild and furious, and very surprised that I had stopped running.

He wasn’t stupid. He knew I was up to something. He regarded me as though I was a wild animal, one he was concerned might bite.

“What is this?” he asked.

“This,” I replied, holding my hands out from my sides, “is the great hall, and you are an uninvited guest.” At the sound of my voice, goblins began to emerge from the shadows, their furry forms seemingly made from the same darkness.

Church tensed at the sight of them, and turned to flee whence he came, only to find the way blocked by gobs.

“I believe you know the prince. You shot him a long time ago. You let me think he’d tried to hurt me.”

“He jumped on you.” Church faced me once more. “Anyone would have done the same if it happened to a child they loved.”

Bitterness blossomed in the back of my mouth. “You killed Simon. You killed my sister.”

“I did what I had to do for you. For the sake of this country.”

Maybe that was what he told himself to justify his actions, but I hadn’t been a consideration, not really.

“You did what served you best,” I corrected him. “And now I’m going to do the same.”

His gaze darted around the room before locking with mine once more. “Is this the moment in our drama when I ask what that is and you shoot me in the head?”

I smiled. “Not quite.” Maybe some day I would be sorry for what I was about to do, but right now I couldn’t think of anything that would give me more satisfaction, despite the consequences.

I turned to the goblins gathered around us, starting with the prince. “I am your queen,” I began, not the least bothered by the crazy-arsed smile I got in return. I was a little crazed myself, after all. “Each and every one of you is now under my protection, as I am under yours. Every one of you is my responsibility, and my charge.”

“And your servant,” the prince amended, with a bow.

I inclined my head at him. “As your queen, I have brought you a gift, and ask only that you take it, here and now.”

“What is it, our lady?”

I held my hand towards Church. “Meat.”

My former mentor’s face drained of all colour as he realised what I’d just done – what he had allowed me to do. “Alexandra, you can’t do this.”

I whirled on him. My fingers crooked, itching to gouge the lying eyes right out of his f*cking head. “Yes. I can.” And then to my newly adopted subjects, “Eat him.”

The goblins converged like a fluid mass – a single unit. The prince led the charge. Church tried to escape, but only made it two steps before the prince was on him. He swung his fist, but the goblin deflected the blow – and then lunged.

He grabbed Churchill by the throat with his teeth. The still sane part of me – and it was a little part, but loud nevertheless – didn’t want to watch, but I refused to look away. This was my responsibility. My choice.

I made myself watch as blood spurted from my former mentor’s neck. Forced myself to look as the rest of the goblins converged. His screams rang in my ears, and I knew I’d hear them in my dreams for a long time to come, along with the sound of tearing flesh and rending bone.

He stopped screaming just when I thought I couldn’t take any more, when the taste of bile burned the back of my throat along with my own screams for him to just hurry up and f*cking die. When that silence fell, it was a terrible one, for it was filled with the quiet sounds of meat being ripped from bone, along with the contented growls of feeding goblins. I watched as an older goblin handed a piece of what looked like liver to a younger pup.

The prince came to me, muzzle wet. He went down on one knee before me, lifting his arms in offering. In his hands was Churchill’s heart. “Tribute, lady.”

I stared at it for a moment; the bloody mass of muscle continued to throb, too stubborn to stop. It mocked me as it pulsed – even though it had been ripped from his chest, it refused to give up.

My fingers reached for it. It was warm and slick as my hand closed around it. I stood stock still and stupid, watching it. I felt it beat against my palm. Once. Twice. Then it went still.

I burst into tears.