Read God Save the Queen (The Immortal Empire) Online

Authors: Kate Locke

Tags: #Paranormal steampunk romance, #Fiction

God Save the Queen (The Immortal Empire) (10 page)

BOOK: God Save the Queen (The Immortal Empire)
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These were not questions I would get the chance to ask. He murmured something to Church as he casually flicked his cigarette into the night. It landed not far from me on the path – I could see the burning tip. Then the tall alpha straightened, rolled his broad shoulders and walked away without giving me so much as a second glance.

Though my ego insisted he had wanted to do just that.

“Patrolling, Leftenant?” Church enquired. There was nothing overt in his tone, but something told me not to ask about the wolf, no matter how much I wanted to. It was none of my business.

“Just finishing, sir,” I replied as I joined him. He eyed me with a mixture of stern appraisal and vague amusement.

“Have you time for a break?”

“I’m due.” I took the cigarette he offered me. He was the only person I ever smoked with. It made me feel like we were part of a secret club. As far as I knew, I was the only former student he spent any amount of time with – since Rye’s death, that was.

He flicked his thumb over his lighter and offered me the flame that jumped up. I stuck the end of my fag into the fire and took a drag.

“I never got the chance to express my condolences,” he said, staring out into the night. “I’m sorry about Drusilla – more than words can express.”

“Thank you.” My throat was tight. I might be able to carry on this charade with Avery and Val and even my father, but not with Church. “Sir, I don’t think Dede’s really dead.”

He turned his head towards me as he exhaled a thin stream of fragrant smoke. “It’s not unusual for people to feel that way after the loss of a loved one. It’s part of grief, my dear girl.”

“I saw the body,” I reminded him before inhaling deeply on my own cigarette. “It wasn’t right.”

“Not to be morbid, but intense heat can do strange things to a body.”

“Maybe,” I agreed, “but I don’t think so in this case. The corpse didn’t have a diamond in its tooth.”

He frowned, turning his body towards me as well. “You think someone purposefully burned the corpse so you’d think it was your sister? Xandra, that sounds like something out of a novel.”

“I don’t know what to think, except I’m certain the body in that morgue isn’t Dede, and someone went to a lot of trouble to make me believe otherwise.”

“Your brother is a detective, Alexandra.” He eyed me carefully. Plague me – did everyone think I was barking hatters? “How is it you noticed what he didn’t? Are you certain you saw what you saw?”

Was it possible I didn’t? No. “To Val, Dede is capable of killing herself, but I know better. I know my sister is still alive and I’m going to find her.”

A half-smile curved Church’s lips. “I have no doubt that if Dede is out there you will find her, but promise me you’ll entertain the notion that you might be wrong. I don’t want to see you sacrifice judgement to hope.”

I nodded, swallowing hard. “I promise.”

“Good girl. Let me know what your investigation uncovers – you’ve intrigued me.”

“I will.” I took another puff and we stood there for a few moments in silence, smoking. Finally I tossed the smouldering butt to the flagstones and ground it beneath my heel. “Duty calls. Enjoy the rest of the evening, Church.”

“You as well.” He wrapped his arm around me for a quick squeeze and then let go. “Oh, and Xandra?”

I’d already begun to walk away, so I had to turn to look at him. “Yes, sir?”

“Vexation MacLaughlin was asking me about you tonight. Is there something I should be aware of between the two of you?”

Only that I saw him toss a human into the boot of his vintage 1971 Swallow before he drove off with a wanted criminal. “Not to my knowledge, sir.”

He nodded, seemingly satisfied. “Keep it that way. That’s one dog you don’t want sniffing around your door.”

“I’ll remember that.” But as I walked away I couldn’t help but realize that if the MacLaughlin decided to come “sniffing around” there was nothing I could do to stop him. Thankfully, I could kick my way out of a boot, should the situation arise.

CHAPTER 4
 
DEATH IN THE FAMILY
 

At three o’clock the following afternoon, I stumbled out of bed, threw a dressing gown over my knickers and tank-top, and staggered barefoot downstairs to the kitchen, where I found Avery and Val at the table, talking in low voices over coffee and a box of doughnuts.

They shut up when I walked in, both turning their gaze towards me.

“You know, I can tell when you’re talking about me,” I growled at them, as I headed for the cafetière on the stove top. I was in fine form today. I hadn’t slept well. I kept thinking of Dede, and the way Vex MacLaughlin had looked at me.

What the hell had I done to attract his notice, other than help a couple of his halvies? He had no way of knowing that I knew about Fee’s criminal extracurricular activities. “We weren’t talking about you,” Avery replied unnecessarily. I grunted in response, breathing in the scent of hot, fresh coffee as I poured myself a large mugful. I dumped in milk and sugar until I had a hot, sweet, beige confection and took a satisfying slurp.

Fang me, it was good. I smiled in pleasure, and joined them at the table, feeling a little more awake – and decidedly more chipper. I plucked a chocolate-glazed doughnut out of the box and took a big bite. Bliss!

Avery watched me as though I were some kind of bug. “Christ, Xandra, how can you smile when Dede is dead? Have you no heart?”

I hit her before I even realised I’d moved – backhanded her across the face so fast my hand was a blur. A loud crack filled the air, and her head whipped around. A bright red splotch blossomed on her otherwise pale cheek. “Fucking bitch!” she snarled, but she didn’t retaliate physically.

“Fuck you,” I shot back, itching to hit her – anyone – again. The back of my hand stung. I didn’t know what was wrong with me, but violence thrummed in my veins. “Don’t you talk to me like I don’t care about Dede. I’m the one who was with her when she lost the baby, remember? I’m the one who took care of her after. I’m the one she called whenever she was in trouble, you cow.”

Avery glared at me. “She didn’t call you this time, did she?”

That struck the right nerve. Val spoke but I didn’t hear him. I was out of my chair in a flash, diving across to knock my sister out of hers as well. We fell to the tiles like a couple of spitting and snarling cats, only instead of using my claws I used my fists.

It didn’t last long – we both managed to land a couple of good blows before Val pulled us apart.

“Stop it!” he shouted. “Both of you!”

I climbed to my feet with the taste of blood in my mouth, satisfied to see crimson trickle from Avery’s perfect nose. Her lip was going to get fat too. I sat down at the table once more and went back to my doughnut and coffee as though nothing had happened. My hands didn’t even tremble as I popped the lids off the bottles
containing my supplements. I palmed them into my mouth and swallowed them with coffee.

“What the bloody hell’s wrong with you?” Val demanded, as he took the seat across from me.

I looked at him. “I don’t have a heart,” I replied drily, before taking another bite of doughnut.

He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Avery, sit down.”

She did as she was told – generally we always did what Val said. He was the eldest, after all.

“Apologise,” he commanded. “Both of you.

Avery and I looked at each other. “Are you sorry?” I asked.

“No,” she replied, dabbing at her bleeding nose with a nap kin.

I shook my head. “Neither am I. You don’t tell me how I choose to mourn or not mourn our sister, got it?”

To my surprise she nodded. “Got it.”

And that was that. It was the way it had always been with me and Avery. The matrons at the Academy always said we were more like brothers than sisters in that regard. We’d get mad at each other, have a knockdown and then all was right with the world once more.

Val stared at us – looking back and forth like he couldn’t believe his eyes. “You’re both mental,” he admonished. “Completely hatters.”

I shrugged and snatched another doughnut from the box – custard this time. De-lish. I wanted to eat until I puked, but that was pretty much an impossibility. So I’d have to settle for just eating.

I chugged more coffee. “What were the two of you talking about when I came in? Other than me, of course.”

“Of course.” He pulled a face, but not before I saw how tired and pale he was. I really should be more careful with the two of them. They thought Dede was dead, and as much as I wanted to
curse them for being so stupid and easily fooled, I had to remember that they truly believed we’d lost a member of our family. They were mourning her, while I believed that rumours of her demise had been, to use a well-known phrase, greatly exaggerated.

“Bedlam released Dede’s body,” Avery informed me, her voice cracking, tossing aside her ruined napkin. Her nose had already stopped bleeding. “The funeral’s tonight.”

My spine snapped rigid. “Tonight? Isn’t that a little soon?”

Val picked at the doughnut on the napkin in front of him. “We could hardly have a viewing, could we?”

I glared at him. “It’s still soon.” A funeral made it final. I had no time to prove the corpse wasn’t Dede.

“Take it up with Father. He was the one who insisted she be interred in the family crypt right away. I think he reckoned if we took care of it quickly enough the press wouldn’t be so hard on us.”

Ah, the press. I’d forgotten about them. They’d already got hold of the story – nothing stayed private for long, not with the way gossip spread across this city.

As if reading my thoughts, Avery set a copy of the
Sun
in front of me. There, on the front page, below the crease, was an old photo of Dede with the caption “VARDAN DAUGHTER’S SUICIDE”. The story went on to inform readers that a “source” said that the body was in such an “alarming” condition that DNA and dental records had to be used to confirm that it was in fact Drusilla Vardan.

Obviously they
hadn’t
compared dental records or they would have known it wasn’t Dede.

“Christ,” I muttered. How did they find out these things so soon? Had someone at Bedlam called them as soon as Val gave a positive ID? I could only imagine what the headlines would scream when it was revealed that Dede was really alive.

When they started talking about her “alleged” affair with Lord Ainsley, I tossed the paper aside. Alleged my arse. The bastard had
told her he loved her, pretended that he was going to leave his wife for her, and my sister, bless her naïve little heart, had fallen for it. She’d gotten pregnant, and he tossed her aside when the baby died shortly after its birth. Went crawling back to his wife, the weasel.

“You’re coming with us, right?” Val looked me dead in the eye. “Tonight, to the service.”

I didn’t want to, but someone had gone to a lot of trouble to make us think my sister was dead – enough trouble that even though I’d seen proof to the contrary with my own eyes, I still had moments where I wanted to cry. That kind of effort wasn’t done for nothing, and I didn’t want to give the people responsible any reason to doubt their ruse had worked.

“Of course.” I added a little indignation to sell it.

From there the conversation turned maudlin. It started with Avery tearfully remarking that she missed Dede and dissolved from there until we were all weeping and reminiscing about things the four of us had experienced, and trading favourite Dede stories. All of them were from before the baby, back when she’d been happy and silly.

It broke my heart. How could I have been so blind to what Val and Avery had seen? No wonder they believed that body was Dede’s – they’d seen how depressed she’d been these past three and a half years. What they hadn’t seen was the one thing that had blinded me to everything else – Dede determined to make herself whole again. And that, I reminded myself, was why I knew she could never have done something like setting herself on fire.

Or perhaps I was the delusional one, wanting so desperately for her to be alive. Because if Dede was alive then I wouldn’t have failed her.

 

That night I dressed in full mourning – head-to-toe black, complete with a long black mandarin-style frock coat that flared around my boots as I walked. My hair was up in a simple twist secured with an ebony stick. I put on just enough make-up so I didn’t look washed out.

BOOK: God Save the Queen (The Immortal Empire)
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