God Save the Queen

CHAPTER 5

MY SISTER’S KEEPERNow I had proof the briquette in that coffin wasn’t Dede – not if I could smell her this well. Scent can linger on things – clothing, skin – but not like this. This was full-flesh halvie smell. Living. Breathing.

And gone.

I could tell which direction the motor carriage went, but that was it. Wherever Dede was now it was east of where I stood. I could panic and rage, but neither of those would do me any good. So I made the conscious decision to keep my head firmly on my shoulders and think rather than go off on instinct. Trying to guess where Dede might be would be like looking for a goblin claw in a heap of offal – unpleasant, pointless and time-consuming. I’d drive myself absolutely mental chasing shadows all over London. My best option was to start at the places I knew she’d been.

Across the street was a Met station. I hurried down the worn stairs to the platform, where a scuffed oak-panelled train had just stopped, its faded red engine chugging puffs of steam that drifted up and out of the vents cobbleside. The lights were extremely bright down here – a na?ve deterrent against goblins. Emergency cases held the standard axes and fire hoses, and then there were the ones that contained huge UV cannons – those might actually keep you alive if one or two goblins came a-hunting. You’d think the aristocracy would outlaw anything that might hurt their own kind, but none of us were safe from goblins, so it was an acceptable risk.

Besides, I could crack the bones of a human forearm in half before they could successfully break that case open, so unless there was a crowd of them already down here, with the cannon at the ready, I wasn’t in much danger. No one paid me much attention anyway. I was a freak as far as humans were concerned, but I was the kind of freak most of them had grown up with. Halvies were part of their cultural lexicography, and aside from the odd wanker, they left us alone so we’d leave them alone.

The air was humid and smelled of wood polish, dirt, human and metal. I hopped on just before the doors slid shut.

I had to transfer at Baker Street for a train that would take me to Whitechapel, where Dede had moved barely six months ago. At the time I thought it was strange – not to mention dangerous – her wanting to live in a predominantly human section of London. Now I wondered if there wasn’t more to it than rebellion and her excuse that her doctor thought she needed to be less dependent on family.

She’d given up living with Avery and me, to get a smaller place in an area that had once been the most notorious rookery in the city. Now it was a trendy neighbourhood of renovated town houses painted bright colours, home to artists, uni students and pretentious bohos. It was lovely, but not what I would call safe for a halvie, and hardly the kind of home befitting the daughter of a duke.

But it made her alone – no one to notice her comings and goings but humans who woke and slept by a different clock, and probably didn’t care about the local “half-breed bastard”, as we were often called.

She would have lived quietly, privately. No one to tell her nosy older sister what she might have been up to. And I was convinced she had been involved in something, because people didn’t go around faking their own death – or having it faked for them – without good reason. Why else would Fee grab a melted, unpawnable ring if not to give it back to its rightful owner?

I had a set of keys to Dede’s place, and I let myself in through the downstairs door of the red brick and white trimmed Georgian. The flat was suspiciously clean for a place inhabited by my sister. Not a speck of dust in sight. Barely any food in the fridge – nothing perishable. No rubbish in the bin either. Almost as though she had planned on being away. Although it could easily be argued that as a professional young woman living alone, she was hardly home and probably ate takeaways for most of her meals.

But I was tenacious by nature, so I sought out clues that would support my theory that Dede was alive, because nothing short of being visited by her ghost would convince me otherwise. Desperate, yes, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t right.

Her antidepressants weren’t in the kitchen cupboard where she usually kept them. They weren’t in any of the cupboards. She could have run out, though, and just hadn’t picked up the new prescription. In Bedlam they would have doled them out themselves.

It wasn’t proof that she was still alive.

Her toothbrush was still in the holder in the bathroom, but that kind of thing was easy to replace. I opened the cabinet. Nothing there but a box of tampons, toothpaste and dental floss.

I went into her bedroom. It looked pretty much as it had last time I was there, though there was one thing missing. The fanged teddy bear I’d given her on her eighteenth birthday was gone. It was something probably no one but me would notice.

Buoyed by the discovery, I yanked open the wardrobe door. There were clothes hanging there – a sight that would have depressed me if there weren’t spaces throughout. Dede was a clothes horse. There was never a space in her wardrobe. No, clothes were missing. All her favourites, from the look of it.

There was no laundry in the hamper. I couldn’t tell if any underwear was missing, or jewellery or make-up. I grabbed a lipstick she’d stolen from me and slipped it into my pocket before going out into the living room. The beige carpet, off-white furniture and oak accents had a very mellow feel to it, relaxing. Dede had worked hard to keep herself on the most even keel she could after the baby died. Her AC player wasn’t in the dock and her favourite video cylinders were gone, as was the photo of the four of us from last Christmas. The player she might have had on her when she was taken in, but she wouldn’t have been carrying movie cylinders, or a framed photograph. What more evidence did I need? I spent the most time with Dede. That was probably why Avery and Val got the call about her “death”. If one of them had come here, they wouldn’t have seen what was missing – I was the only one who’d even visited her here. Mostly Dede had come to us, which now seemed suspicious as well.

“I’m going to find you,” I murmured to the empty flat before I walked out the door. “Whether you want me to or not.”

Downstairs I knocked on the landlady’s door. Mrs Jones was the only human I’d ever met and liked despite myself. When she answered the door she took one look at me and burst into tears. She pulled me inside and into her arms for a fierce hug. Pressed against her sugar-biscuit-scented self, I was suddenly aware that I hadn’t got all the crypt dirt off me.

“I wanted to come to the funeral,” she told me a few moments later, as she fussed about her kitchen making us a cup of tea, “but I had to wait for a plumber to show up – no getting out of it.”

I didn’t doubt her sincerity. “Dede knew you loved her, Mrs Jones. You didn’t have to go to her funeral for that.”

The grey-haired lady wiped at her eyes as she filled a teapot with hot water. “You’re sweet to think of an old woman in your time of sorrow, so considerate.”

Consideration had nothing to do with it. I wasn’t thinking of her at all. Still, I gave her a slight smile, and sat with my back to the wall so I could keep my attention focused on her. I liked her, but that didn’t mean I was stupid enough to trust her.

“Have you noticed if anyone other than me has been to the apartment?” I asked. I got up to help her when she tried to carry a tray heavy with tea, cups and biscuits to the table.

She gave up her burden with a smile. “Thank you, dear. Other than you and the folks from the hospital, I haven’t seen anyone around Dede’s place.” She dabbed at her eyes again.

I had been in the process of pouring the tea, and sloshed a little over the side of my cup I’d been so startled. “People from the hospital?”

Mrs Jones smiled. “Yes, the nice young man and woman they sent to get some of Dede’s things. Let me wipe that up for you.”

Bedlam didn’t send people to collect an inmate’s belongings. That was the duty of family – if the inmate was allowed to have any personal items. It was an asylum, after all. And asylums hadn’t changed that much during Victoria’s seventeen and one half decades on the throne.

“Was one of them a woman with blue hair?” I asked, following my rising suspicion.

Mrs Jones’s wrinkled face brightened. “Why, yes, it was! Had a very handsome gentleman with her – from India, I think.”

I wasn’t interested in the tosser with her. “Did you happen to see what they took? Just so I know when I pack the flat up.”

The brightness drained from her features. “I’m afraid not. They had Dede’s keys. And you needn’t rush to tidy things up, dear. Dede paid up to the end of the month. Such a good tenant. I was so surprised when she gave notice.”

I froze, biscuit poised halfway to my mouth. “She planned to move out?”

She looked surprised. “Why, yes. She didn’t tell you? She said she was going to live with some friends.” Surprise turned into guilty consternation. “Dear me, she did tell me it was a secret, but I didn’t think she meant from you.”

Like hell she didn’t. I patted the old girl’s hand. “Don’t fret, Mrs J. No doubt she thought I’d try to talk her out of it.”

Mrs Jones dabbed at her eyes again, but she smiled through the sheen of tears. “You’re right about that, Xandra, yes you are.”

I stayed long enough to finish my cup of tea and eat seven biscuits. Then I took my leave. It was after midnight now, and Mrs Jones was starting to yawn. I thanked her for her time and vowed to be back soon to take care of Dede’s belongings. She gave me half a dozen biscuits to take with me.

I was going to keep all Dede’s ACs and VCs just to piss her off. She had scads of American bootlegs I coveted.

Outside, I set out for the closest Met stop. I wished I had the Butler, but I had started this evening with plans to attend a funeral, not run about London. I hopped as few trains as needed to get me to Lambeth Road as quickly as possible. Soon I was standing on the street, looking through the locked gate at the sprawling asylum and chewing thoughtfully on a biscuit. I’d eaten almost all of them on the way here.

I could jump the fence, but that would set off the alarms – and it was so well lit and open in front that I wouldn’t be able to conceal myself. Plus, there had to be video surveillance. I reckoned someone was watching me on a monitor somewhere.

I walked down the street and turned the corner. It was darker this way, and there were trees inside the wall. I was sure there were security measures in play here as well, but they’d been designed to keep people in, not out. No human would be able to get in without considerable effort, but I wasn’t human – half didn’t count.

This wasn’t much of a residential area, and at this time of night it was very, very quiet. As I approached the shadows near the wall I heard voices – jovial voices – coming from the other side. Was Bedlam having a party? Dear me, I’d forgotten to RSVP. Maybe Fee put my name on the guest list.

The thought of how I’d helped her – felt a kinship with her – burned in my gut. If I’d known then that she’d had anything to do with Dede’s disappearance, I would have beaten the truth out of her.

What was the connection? And what did the missing hospital records have to do with any of it? Why pretend my sister was dead? I had more questions than answers and it pissed me off.

That anger gave me the courage to do what I had to do next. I took a deep breath and ran for the wall, easily vaulting on to the top of it. Balanced precariously, I peered into the trees for a foothold. I jumped, grabbed a limb over my head and swung myself into the shelter of leaves and branches. My feet landed on what felt like a sturdy branch, and from there it was just a matter of climbing and swinging.

I dropped to the ground by the side of the building, where it was shaded and just out of reach of the floodlights and cameras. Slowly I moved towards the back of the asylum. I peeked around the corner, the brick wall cool and rough beneath my palms.

The back lawn of Bedlam was prettily landscaped. The far side bordered what I assumed was a parking area for staff vehicles. There was an ambulance there. The sight of it dried my throat. I remembered my mother being hauled away in a similar vehicle.

From there, I turned my attention to the people on the lawn. They sat on dilapidated chairs that were at least a hundred years old, chaises that weren’t in much better shape, and overturned crates. A small fire burned in a nearby pit, and I could hear the occasional “tink” of glass as they chattered and laughed amongst themselves.

They were mostly half-bloods – I could tell by the hair. There were humans there as well, though. It made me uneasy seeing the two races mix so casually, so easily. Yes, I was bigoted and not in the least bothered by it. History taught that humans were not to be trusted. Were these people staff? Some wore lab coats and uniforms that made me think they were, but others looked like regular citizens.

Amongst the crowd I spotted Fee’s blue head. She was talking to a man whose face I couldn’t see – his back was to me. She laughed and smiled as though she hadn’t a care in the world. I was so going to enjoy making a job of her. I should have brought my brass knuckles.

Partway up the wall there was a ladder – the sort used to escape during a fire, or slip out to meet mates at the club when you were underage. I took a step back, then threw myself at the building. Pushing against the wall with my toes, I leapt up and grasped the bottom rung. The metal quivered as I pulled myself up. Then it groaned. I heard a “ping” and something hit my cheek; it was one of the brackets holding the ladder to the wall. The bloody thing was going to snap loose, tossing me to the ground. It wasn’t injury that concerned me, but rather the noise that would accompany it.

For security, I reached out and pressed the tips of the fingers of my left hand into a crevice between bricks. My grip felt strong, the wall sturdy. I frowned. I’d never really had to do much climbing before, but I enjoyed it. Still, it was one thing to climb a rope in class, or scale a rock wall. Could I pull myself up the side of this building?

Digging my fingers into the brick, I lifted my right foot and pressed the toe of my boot against the wall. Then I pushed up. I clutched at a window casing like an insect, heart beating hard enough to bruise my ribs, and slowly moved upwards, toward a better vantage point.

Using handholds caused by deteriorating mortar and bits of architecture, I worked my way up with surprising ease. When I reached the roof, I stepped over the low balustrade that ran around the entire perimeter and crept towards the centre, where I could crouch down and spy upon their do in a proper manner.

So many pretty hair colours mixed in with mundane blondes and gingers. Human hair wasn’t as glossy as halvie, so once you knew what to look for, it was relatively easy to pick out those masquerading from the real thing.

The man Fee had been talking to had left her during my climb, but the blue-haired halvie was a freaking social butterfly, flitting around the gathering like they were flowers and she was trying to pollinate them all.

And then I saw her stop and speak to a young woman with black hair. I probably would have dismissed it if I hadn’t caught a flash of gold as Fee handed her something. Was that a ring? The other woman raised her face with a smile – and that was when the breath caught in my throat.

It was Dede.

I watched her for what felt like hours but was probably only one, possibly one and a half. She looked happy – happier than I’d seen her look in a long time. It was heartbreaking to see her laugh.

I hated her at that moment. Her family and friends were in mourning and she looked so f*cking happy. Was it possible she didn’t know that we’d been told she was dead? No. She hadn’t questioned the melted ring. She knew. To rub a little salt in, she was wearing a pair of my earrings.

The fires and lanterns were doused as the crowd slowly thinned and moved inside. I waited a little bit before trying to find my own entrance. The windows on the building were barred, again to keep people from getting out, but effectively preventing me from getting in without doing damage that was sure to be noticed. The windows on the chapel dome didn’t have bars, but I reckoned I’d have to break the glass to get in, and that would undoubtedly set off alarms.

The answer to my problem turned up about quarter of an hour later, when the human security guards began their rounds. Patience wasn’t one of my virtues, but it was easier to crouch and wait with anger and disappointment overwhelming me. I’d always been Dede’s staunchest supporter, always believed in her. But I had to face it, there was simply no bloody way I could excuse her of all culpability in whatever kind of mess this was. It simply seemed too premeditated to me.

I glanced down at the guards and was glad that hueys were easy to sneak up on. I swung my leg over the side of the roof and quickly scampered three quarters of the way down, confidence in my climbing abilities coming easily this time.

The guards began their rounds – one coming towards me, the other going around to the other side of the building. I clung to the window frame until the nearest guard turned the corner to walk past where I hung like a spider. Slowly I eased myself down the wall until I could drop soundlessly to the grass. I crept up behind the guard. He had an ear bud in one ear – I could hear the melodic hum of music from his A-player. It wasn’t enough to keep him from hearing his buddy if he called for help, but it was just enough to distract him from me. Obviously they didn’t get much trouble round here.

The guard’s key card was attached to one of those clips that latched on to a belt loop and had a little retractable cord so you could display and use the ID without having to look for it. My dagger slid noiselessly from its sheath. I caught the dangling card and pulled it down and back, the pressure so light the guard didn’t notice. Then I severed the cord with one clean slice.

I froze when the guard suddenly stopped. My breath ripened in my lungs as he reached back and felt for the clip. If he turned around he’d see me and yell for back-up. I didn’t want to hurt anyone tonight if I could help it. I didn’t want any alarms to sound until I’d got what I came for.

Luck was on my side. The guard’s blunt fingers only went so far as to determine that the clip was still attached to his belt. He didn’t feel for the card. Success. When he eventually noticed it he’d think he’d snagged it on something. I’d drop it by the side of the building before I left.

Card in hand, I backed away as the guard kept walking, blissfully unaware. Once at the corner, I turned around and ran towards the door. I didn’t know what the hell I was going to do when I got inside; I’d figure it out once I was there.

The light on the card port turned green when I inserted the card, and I quickly turned the knob and crossed the threshold. I was in a corridor that looked far more welcoming than it felt. It had the same dark panelling as the foyer and a carpet with a William Morris design. To my right was what looked like a drawing room and to the left a huge dining hall with large windows that overlooked the grounds.

At least my mother had been imprisoned in a nice place. The temptation to find out about her was strong, but my fear of discovering what this place might have done to her was greater. There wasn’t anything I could do for her, but I could still save Dede.

Save her so I could f*cking kill her myself.

I had to admit, with the exception of the morgue, Bedlam didn’t look nearly as nightmarish as I thought it ought, a theory only reinforced as I tiptoed down the corridor into the spacious and welcoming great hall. There I stopped for a moment and sniffed the air. Dede’s scent rushed to greet me, bringing the sting of tears to my eyes.

I don’t think I’d realised just how afraid I’d been that she was actually dead – that somehow I’d imagined all evidence to the contrary.

My sister’s scent led me to the right – what would be the west wing. Here oak wainscot contrasted with creamy walls. The ceiling above was white with embossed tiles, and on the floor there was more pretty carpet. The doors were curved at the top, and between each room was an ornate wall sconce emanating soft light. Little side tables held vases of fresh flowers that filled the wide corridor with the smell of spring. But Dede’s scent remained.

I chased the smell, letting my nose lead me. I kept an eye and an ear out for company, but none came.

At the end of the hall was a hidden staircase – probably used by servants once upon a time. I climbed it, following my sister. On the next floor I paused, listening. Muted voices conversed behind closed doors. Someone was playing a guitar. Someone else was watching the box. Easily a dozen other scents reached out to me, daring me to put their puzzle together. I ignored them, because my head wanted to make them into something familiar, and I didn’t have time for it.

My search led me to a room three doors down on the left. On the other side of the door I could hear Sid Vicious warbling about the summer wind. It couldn’t be that this was where the scent ended, not with Sid played inside.

I didn’t knock. I shoved the guard’s card in the lock, grabbed the brass doorknob and turned it, my heart pounding against my ribs. The heavy wood swung open and I crossed the threshold, alert to any possible threat. But nothing happened. No one jumped me or tried to shoot me. I turned towards the bed and the young woman sitting on it. A book was page-down beside her on the patchwork quilt. She wasn’t reading it, she was staring at me. And I was staring at her black hair – so human and common-looking.

My sister smiled. “Hullo, Xandy. I was wondering when you’d turn up.”

Killing her would be too kind.

She looked so at home here in this lovely room with its sage-green walls and white woodwork. Gauzy curtains with little green leaves covered the blinds at the windows, and a cream, taupe and sage rug sat in the middle of the hardwood floor. The furniture was white as well, but the focal point of the room was the enormous four-poster bed, on which my sister sat, dressed in white knee-length bloomers and a loose shirt, legs crossed like a yogi, smiling like a f*cking idiot.

She must have seen murder in my eyes because her smile quickly faded. “You shouldn’t be here,” she said.

I closed the door and leaned against it, arms folded over my chest so she couldn’t see how my hands shook. “Really? A moment ago you said I’d been expected.”

“You were, unfortunately.” She climbed off the bed and came towards me, looking more like a kid than a twenty-one-year-old woman. I couldn’t look at that God-awful hair. “I told them you’d show up. That you wouldn’t be fooled. I knew you wouldn’t just let me go.”

She sounded both pleased and disappointed – if that were possible. I couldn’t look at her – I was too angry. But when I turned my head and saw the bear I had given her sitting on that bed, I whirled on her, barely containing the tempest of emotions that raged within me.

Fang me, but I really wanted to tear her apart. I also wanted to sob in relief that she was alive.

“Get your things,” I commanded. “We’re going home, and you’re going to explain to your grieving family why a char-grilled stranger is interred in the family mausoleum. And don’t forget my f*cking earrings.”

Thin arms crossed tightly over her slight chest, she glared at me with eyes so much like my own. “I’m not leaving. I’m sorry if I’ve hurt you or Avery and Val, but I’m not going back to that life, and if you have any love for me at all, you won’t tell them the truth.”

“Are you completely mental?” I straightened away from the door. “You must be to fake your own death. And a shit-poor job you did too. Fee stealing your ring back was bad enough, but you took things from your apartment, gave notice to your landlady. Did you think we wouldn’t figure it out?”

“I knew Avery and Val wouldn’t notice anything or even think to ask. They both think I’m hatters as it is. I also knew our father wouldn’t bother to investigate, but you …” She smiled again and shook her head. “I knew you’d be trouble.”

“You knew I’d find you, but now I have to leave? Without you?” I could practically taste the incredulity in my voice.

Dede nodded, her expression suddenly grim. “I’m glad you know the truth, but now it’s best for everyone if you forget you saw me. Let me go.”

“I can’t do that.”

Inky hair fell over her pale forehead. Her wide gaze met mine with stark sincerity. “You tell people I’m alive and it won’t be long before I’m dead for real.”

This was too much. She sounded paranoid and manic and … mad. Mad as a bloody hatter. And yet I played along. “Who? Why?”

She rubbed a hand over her opposite shoulder, as though she was chilled. I had to fight the urge to find her a sweater. “I know too much. If it weren’t for who I am, I probably would have been tossed to the goblins, hence my hasty admission to New Bethlehem. I suppose they figured this would be the one place you wouldn’t come looking for me.”

I still wasn’t any closer to figuring out what she was doing here. “Start from the beginning.” I didn’t add that it had better be good. Dede could tell a story to rival Shakespeare. What it had better be was true, and not some wild conspiracy theory.

She sat down on the trunk at the foot of the bed. I stayed where I was in case anyone tried to interrupt our little family reunion  .

Her eyebrows knitted. “Seven months ago I was approached by … someone I knew. This person told me things that supported what I’d already presumed – that the aristocracy is not to be trusted.”

“Albert’s fangs, Dede!” I looked nervously around the room. What did I suspect was about to happen? Did I think Queen V would suddenly burst out of the wardrobe shouting “Treason!?”

“It’s true, Xandy. You’ve never seen it because you don’t want to.”

No bloody way was I going to be the guilty one. “This isn’t about me, Dee. It’s about you.” And what government was totally trustworthy? Really.

“It’s about something bigger than the both of us,” she informed me smartly. “Half-bloods were an accident, Xandy. And once they found out we were useful, they bred us and put us to whatever use they could find, but they don’t care about us. They experiment on our minds and bodies – our reproductive organs. They’re killing halvies and humans in an attempt to make their own lives better.”

“Who are? Aristos?” Astonished, that was what I was – and somewhat alarmed that my sister might really be mad.

She shook her head. “I knew you wouldn’t believe it. They were the ones who took my son, you know. When they discovered he was fully plagued, they took him and gave him to Ainsley to replace the one he lost. I’ve seen him.”

A lump swelled in my throat. Reality had deserted my beautiful baby sister. “Your child died, luv. You know that. There’s never been a fully plagued birth from a half-blood and an aristo.”

“That you’ve been told about,” she retorted.

“Because there’s nothing to tell.” Although, that was odd, wasn’t it? If two human carriers could produce a fully plagued living child, why couldn’t a halvie and an aristo?

She made a scoffing sound, staring down her pert nose at me as though I were an ignorant lout. “I’ve always envied your ability to blindly believe what you’re told.”

“I didn’t believe you were dead,” I countered with a little bite. “How could you do this to us? To your mother and to our father?”

She watched me for a moment as though I were some sort of odd bug and she was Charles bloody Darwin. “You can’t imagine displeasing him, can you? Of course you can’t, because you still hope that one day he might be a proper father. He’s different with you. Church too. They both adore you. Why is that?”

I didn’t like her tone. “I dunno. Maybe because I don’t go running around attacking peers at parties?”

That took some of the fight out of her, but not all of it. The finger she pointed at me barely shook. “They took my son, and when I dared speak up about it – when I became a ‘problem’ – they sent me here, where they send all their unwanted halvies.”

I made a show of examining my surroundings. “Doesn’t seem such a bum deal.”

She mocked me with a smile. “I can show you the locked ward.”

The thought of that brought an acrid taste to my mouth. “I thought you wanted me to leave.”

All traces of smile vanished. “I do. Promise you won’t tell anyone you saw me, Xandy. Please, if you have any love for me, you won’t tell anyone – not even Avery or Val, and especially not Churchill – that I’m alive.”

I had already told Church my suspicions, but I trusted him with my life. “You can’t ask that of me, Dede. It’s not right.”

“What they’re doing to us isn’t right!” she cried, then lowered her voice. “For the first time I feel as though I’m part of something good, something meaningful. I’m doing the right thing and I belong here.”

It was as though the proverbial light switched on in my head – and I didn’t like what it showed me. “Albert’s fangs. You’ve joined the Insurrectionists, haven’t you?” I had no idea how it had happened, or what they had to do with Bedlam, but the pieces suddenly fell into place with cruel clarity – Dede had turned traitor.

She lifted her chin as she toyed with the bottles on the dressing table. “You say it like it’s something to be ashamed of.”

“It is!” I threw my hands in the air, then pressed them against my head. “God, Dede. You’ll be executed.”

She smiled again. “Can’t kill a dead woman.”

And there was my answer as to why anyone would try to fake Dede’s death. “Who is that poor soul in our family crypt?”

“A halvie who died at a horror show,” came her hoarse reply. “She’d been tossed down a hole for the goblins to get.”

My stomach rolled, partly from disgust and partly from the fact that I hadn’t eaten in a little while. As though reading my thoughts, my sister opened one of the drawers, took out a Cadbury and tossed it to me.

“Horror shows are illegal,” I said, taking a bite of the chocolatey goodness without thanking her. The term referred to spectacles where aristos drank from humans – and occasionally halvies – to the death. They had been terribly popular in Paris and Venice years ago. Often times the victims were people who sold their mortality to the show in return for money to support their families.

“Don’t be na?ve.” Dede’s tone and expression were harsh. “Go into the Freak Show sometime and ask them about their employees who have vanished over the last three months. Apparently a horror show involving freaks brings in three times the crowd. There was one in London just a fortnight ago.”

“I never heard about it.”

“No. Well you’re not exactly listening to the right people, Xandy. You try so hard to be part of that world, you have no time for anything not aristo-related.”

“That’s not true.”

This time her smile was sad – pitying really. “You never noticed what I’ve been up to these last six months. It was all about getting here. I won’t let you ruin that.”

“De—”

She held up her hand to cut me off. “Don’t. Do not tell me you just want to protect me, or that you think I’m misguided. What if I could prove to you that the aristocracy is not as wonderful as you think? That people you trust are not to be trusted?”

I crossed my arms over my chest. “I’d say show me.”

She stepped forward, stomping her little foot like she had as a child whenever she was frustrated. “I’m going to introduce you to the people in charge.”

The people in charge? I licked a spot of chocolate from my finger. How could I turn down such an opportunity? I’d have names, faces. Good Lord, Victoria would probably declare me a hero if I delivered a cabal of Insurrectionists to her.

Wouldn’t Father be proud? Church too. The praise and pride I imagined in both their eyes might just be worth Dede hating me for a while. She’d get over it once her sanity returned. Of course I’d tell them that she had helped bring the traitors in; I wouldn’t let them know she’d been one of them.

“Lead on,” I said, trying to keep the excitement from my voice. If she thought for a minute that I was going to essentially betray her, she’d change her mind. She wasn’t stupid. And I wasn’t normally this cold, but the Insurrectionists had killed Wellington. They’d killed Prince Albert too.

Dede tossed on a lightweight embroidered kimono. She regarded me as though I was a recalcitrant child and she was about to teach me a very important lesson.

As we left the room I took a good look at her. She did seem better than she had in a long time. She appeared rested – alive. Peaceful. All because of what she’d found in this godforsaken place.

It made me angry. “I hate your hair. It makes you look human.”

She glanced at me over her shoulder. “It’s supposed to.”

“I still hate it.”

She snorted and looked away. “This coming from a woman dressed like a Chinese undertaker.”

“Sorry, I’ve just come from my sister’s funeral and didn’t have time to change.”

She stopped dead so quickly I almost stepped on her. Her face turned, gaze darting to mine. “Was Ainsley there?”

Not family, not friends, but f*cking Ainsley.

“Yes. He sat at the back.” I should have lied to her and said he wasn’t there, but I couldn’t do it.

There were tears in her eyes as she turned away and resumed walking. She didn’t say another word – not even to apologise for putting us through the pain of a funeral – until we’d descended that concealed staircase and stood in front of a large double door halfway down the corridor. “Here.”

“Aren’t you going to make me swear to secrecy?” I whispered – mockingly, I might add – as she knocked upon the polished wood.

She shot me a cool glance. “Don’t have to.”

“That sure of your new friends, eh?”

The corner of her mouth lifted. “I’m that sure of you.”

Before we could enter the room, there was a shout, and the two guards from outside came running down the corridor towards us. I knew it was them from the ruddy-rage colouring the face of the one in front – and the security card missing from his belt.

“Stop right there!” he shouted. “Step away from the girl.”

It was obvious that he was talking to me because I was the one he was pointing his gun at. I was fairly certain I could break both of his kneecaps before he shot me so badly I would require medical attention. Not sure about his friend, though.

Dede tried to intervene. “There’s no need for this. She’s my sister.”

The guard didn’t even look at her. “I said step away.” Then to his partner, “Take the other one to the administrator.”

Perhaps it was just me, but that sounded fairly ominous. “You’re not taking her anywhere.”

He reached for Dede, tried to push her towards his partner. All it took was that little push – nothing violent about it, but I reacted all the same. She stumbled towards the other fellow, her declarations that I was not a threat falling on deaf ears.

Still, she was all the distraction I needed. The sight of the guard’s hand on her unleashed something in me, and suddenly I was like that green monster-man in the American comic books Val’s aunt used to send him. I couldn’t remember the name, but I knew people didn’t like him when he was angry.

I was very, very angry. What else was new?

I ran towards the guard, and when he lifted his gun, I pivoted so that I ran partway up and along the wall. He fired at the spot where I had been standing just a split second earlier. But by the time he caught up, I was in front of him and the hand he had on the trigger was broken at the wrist. I disarmed him as he fell to the floor, screaming.

His partner forgot about Dede and obligingly came at me in a defensive rush, so that all I had to do was lift the pilfered weapon to the proper height and he rammed his face right into it. He jerked back and fell to the carpet in a graceless, boneless heap. Blood trickled from his nose.

Humans.

Someone began to applaud as I lowered the gun. I turned towards the sound. It was Fee, looking like she was about to lead a marching band, in a military-style red tail coat and snug black trousers tucked into wellington boots. But it wasn’t the blue-haired witch who caught my attention – that belonged to the lovely woman standing next to her.

My brain stopped working. In fact, I think my entire body shut down. My knees felt like rubber, my ribs crushed my lungs and I was somehow hot and cold at the same time. I had to grab Dede’s shoulder to keep from falling.

Standing before me was a woman I hadn’t seen for twelve years. A woman I had been led to believe was forever lost to me.

My mother.