Kiss of Steel (30 page)

He’d be in Undertown now, hunting a vampire among the Slasher gangs and the humans who lived down there. Determined to do his duty to the people who relied on him, and to the little adopted family he’d gathered around himself. He was illegitimate, illiterate, and a self-professed scoundrel. And he had more honor in his little finger than half the so-called lords of the Echelon.

Honoria traced a pattern on the window with her finger. With Will recovering from the vampire attack, Blade had only O’Shay and Rip at his side. Humans. With a pack of blue bloods at his back and a squadron of metaljackets. All it would take would be one bullet and he’d cease to be a thorn in the side of the Echelon.

“What are you looking for?” Lena asked.

Honoria jerked her finger away from the window. “Nothing.”

“You’ve been staring out the window all day,” Lena noted, the needle and thread dipping between her fingers. “As though you’re looking for something.”

“My eyes are strained,” Honoria replied, rubbing at her temples. “I just need to rest them every now and then.”

Lena looked down, her fingers pausing on the fabric. “They’re hunting something, aren’t they? When I went to fetch water this morning, Lettie Hancott told me that a squadron of metaljackets was at the warren. Is it the murderer?”

What to tell her? Nobody could afford to have word of the vampire getting loose in the community, and Lena was the first to admit that she couldn’t be trusted with vital information. “Yes,” Honoria said after a moment’s hesitation. “They think he’s in Undertown.”

“You’re worried about him,” Lena said, putting her sewing down.

“The murderer? Hardly.”

Lena rolled her eyes. “I wasn’t referring to the murderer and you know it.” Her astute brown eyes seemed to see straight through Honoria. “At first I thought this was a business transaction between you. But it’s not, is it?”

“If Blade dies, then we’re back on the streets, without any way of fending for ourselves,” Honoria retorted, her skirts swishing around her feet as she paced. “There’s no money for food, for Charlie, for—”

“Honor.”

“I don’t have time for this…for him. I have too much to worry about—you, Charlie, the money to feed ourselves with.”

“What are you afraid of?”

“I’m not afraid of anything.”

“Yes, you are. You’re hiding behind me and Charlie. Using us as a shield to protect yourself from him.” Lena sighed. “I can’t say I was thrilled when you first took up with him, but he’s proven a man of his word. And he makes you smile. I haven’t seen you smile for such a long time.” Her voice trailed off into a wistful end.

Lena. Always searching for the fairy tale in every corner. Sometimes Honoria wished she could be as naïve.

“Its not as though he’s bought you over completely with that cotton, is it?” Honoria sighed. “He’s a good man. And he amuses me. Occasionally.”

“Well,” Lena said. “I suppose it could be worse. At least he seems to have money. Even if he is a bastard-born, rogue blue blood.”

A little curl of anger warmed Honoria. “Blade is honest. And loyal. Far better traits to have than being born on the right side of the sheets.”

“Perhaps. But if you were going to marry, I thought that at least it would be someone with some kind of pedigree. Or someone who could at least read.”

“He doesn’t need book smarts to be intelligent,” she retorted. Then she realized what else Lena had said. “And I’m his thrall, not his fiancée.”

Lena took a sip of her tea, mocking her over the top of it with an arched brow. “I’ve seen the way he looks at you. And you at him. If you have no intentions of marrying him, then I’m not certain I quite approve of the relationship.”

Honoria gaped. For a moment Lena had sounded exactly like…like her. And then the realization struck. Her eyes narrowed. “You little sneak.”

“You
like
him. You do. You were all ready to jump down my throat.” Lena grinned. “You’re worried about him.”

“Of course I’m worried about him,” Honoria snapped. “He’s hunting through Undertown, with the Echelon at his back. Any one of them could take the opportunity to dispose of him. Not to mention the vam—” She bit her lip. “The killer.”

Lena got up and danced toward her. “You’re so unromantic, Honor. And so stubborn!” Lena took her sister’s hands and swung her around in a jig. “Have you kissed him yet?”

“That’s none of your business,” Honoria replied, tugging loose. Heat burned up her throat. They’d done infinitely more than that.

“You have! You flirt!”

“You don’t have to sound so delighted.”

“Was it good?” Lena’s grin broadened. “It was. You liked it. How many times have you kissed him?”

Far too many times. It was becoming addictive. “This conversation is over.”

“Don’t be a spoilsport. Lord knows we have little else to find enjoyment in at the moment. One of us might as well have a little romance in her life.”

It was all too heady a reminder. “I don’t have time—”

“If it weren’t for our circumstances, what would you do?” Lena gave her a serious look. “Take away me. And Charlie. And everything else. What would you do?”

Honoria hesitated. Then shook her head. “It’s a purely hypothetical question, because you do exist. I can’t pretend otherwise, and there’s no point wondering ‘what if.’”

“Honor.”

She bit her lip. “I don’t know. I haven’t thought about it.”

“Liar.”

A little swell of heat burned behind Honoria’s eyes, taking her by surprise. She turned away, stacking dishes in the sink. Anything to busy her hands. “I haven’t.”

“Honor.” Lena caught her hand and stopped her.

Something wet trailed down her cheek. She dabbed awkwardly at it, turning her face away from her sister, but Lena knew. Her arms came up around Honoria’s shoulder, and she tucked her chin against her sister’s neck.

“I know you don’t like to be impulsive,” Lena said. “You think too much, you always have. But you should take this chance. You should go to him tonight. Don’t think. Just follow what your heart is telling you.”

“I don’t know what my heart is telling me,” Honoria replied, wiping her eyes with her sleeve. The damn tears kept coming. There was a sudden heavy weight rising through her chest, into her throat. “He’s a blue blood. And a rogue. And he’s got over a dozen thralls. He’s nearly half a century older than me!”

“Weren’t you the one telling me it didn’t matter only moments ago? What’s the real problem? What are you afraid of?”

Everything
. She buried her face in her sister’s shoulder as it all welled up within her, threatening to choke her. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” she managed to gasp. “I don’t
know
what I’m afraid of.”

A smile dawned on Lena’s lips as she wiped her sister’s cheeks.

“It’s not amusing,” Honoria said.

“I know what’s wrong. You can’t control this. How you feel. Or how he feels. That’s what you’re scared of.”

“It’s not that simple…If I did feel something for him, what if he didn’t return those feelings? What if—”

“I’m fairly certain he returns something,” Lena answered. “For someone so logical, you’re making such a mess of things.”

“You’re enjoying this far too much, Lena.”

“Of course I am. It’s not often that I get to see you in a dither.”

“I’m not in a dither.” Honoria’s tears were starting to slow. Strangely enough, she felt as though some of the pressure had eased.

“Are too.”

Honoria opened her mouth to deny it, then stopped. Lena was right. She was a mess. Over a man. And she didn’t know why.
Because
he’s unsuitable. Because he might break your heart. Because you care for him…
She stopped herself there, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath.

“Let’s look at this logically, then, since I know you’re so fond of rational thought,” Lena offered. “Firstly, the man has given you a small fortune to be his thrall when he only had to pay you a fraction of what he has. Secondly, he has his men guarding the house at night, and I know we’re the only ones in the rookery, because I asked around.”

“You didn’t!” Honoria exclaimed.

“I did. Thirdly, we might presume that he is only interested in getting you into his bed. Any man might do these things and more for a tupping.”

“Lena!”

“But he hasn’t taken you to bed.” Lena’s eyebrow arched. “Or at least I presume he hasn’t.”

Honoria shook her head.

“So we must assume he is interested in something else. He likes you.” At that Lena reverted to her normal tone of voice and rolled her eyes. “Though heavens knows why.”

Honoria swatted her sister’s arm. The skin of her cheeks felt tight and dry, as though scoured by her tears. “It’s never that simple.”

“You think too much. Stop thinking. Just do.”

“Just do what?”

“Whatever pops into your mind when you see him next. If nothing else, it shall certainly shock him.”

The thought of shoving him up against a wall and kissing him flashed through Honoria’s mind. It would certainly shock him. She’d been holding him at bay for days. Despite the turmoil of emotion, she couldn’t stop herself from laughing at the thought of his expression. “You’re incorrigible,” she said.

“But so much smarter than you when it comes to dealing with emotions,” Lena countered.

Honoria could have throttled her sister. Or hugged her. Instead she smiled back. “Thank you.”

“My pleasure. Goodness knows, it’s pleasant to be the one doling out the advice for a change rather than receiving it.” Lena turned with another laugh and a swish of her skirts. “I’ll take Charlie his dinner.”

The small bowl of soup would be barely enough to feed a soul, but Honoria knew her brother would never finish it. The thought sobered her. Her cheeks ached, as though unaccustomed to the laughter.

I
used
to
laugh. I used to find so much to smile about
. She trailed her fingertips sadly over the back of the chair as Lena prepared Charlie’s soup.

Now there was no time for smiling. Time. She felt it heavily on her shoulders, as though she were trapped in the bottom of an hourglass and each grain of sand that tumbled through landed squarely upon her. It was a race now to see if she could hold all of that sand off before it buried her.

Honoria sighed and sat back down, dragging her father’s diary in front of her. She could barely think for all of the revelations swirling through her head. When had Lena become so wise?

Concentrate
, she told herself firmly. Think of the notes, of the disease. Blade would be dealt with tonight when she had time.

The code was hard to decipher.
Test
subject
twenty-seven shows remarkable signs of improvement, much like subjects nine and fifteen
, she scrawled onto the page.
He
has
been
injected
with
the
same
antidote
as
the
others
in
his
subject
group, so we must consider that it is not the antidote but something else—unless, of course, he is different himself from the other test subjects and therefore is reacting differently. Variables include diet, exercise, sleep, the amount of sunlight in his cell. I have examined these and conclude them all to be similar. Each subject is given exactly a quarter of a pint of blood a day, fifteen minutes of walking in the yard, and is strictly woken after eight hours of sleep. Sunlight appears to be the same. So what is different? What is the one thing those three subjects share that offsets them from the rest?

Honoria scratched out the last word and stared through the paper, trying to remember the cell patterns and the number of faceless inmates who stared through the bars at her as she walked past.

And that was when Lena began screaming.

Chapter 18

The soup was splashed all over the floor. Lena stood frozen in the middle of the room. “Charlie?” she whispered.

Honoria sucked in a breath, her hand clutching the doorknob.

“I’m sorry,” Charlie whispered. Tears streamed down his face, diluting the blood on his lips. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t…I just couldn’t stop myself.”

Honoria’s gaze darted, taking in the bloodstained sheets and the ruined mess of his wrists. She took a hesitant step into the room, feeling it start to spiral around her. Charlie’s pupils were almost completely black.

“Oh, my God,” Lena whispered.

“Lena. Fetch the washcloth.”