Poison in the Blood (6 page)

My husband would be livid indeed when he learned of this. To be honest, I was dismayed myself, but Miss Dubois was steadfast as ever. She changed into a smart dress of navy blue with silver piping that reminded me a bit of a military uniform—again with a matching parasol. Her shoulders were squared and her chin held high as the carriage brought us to our indecent destination. Dr. Bennett continued to be flustered and displeased with the state of the lenses in his spectacles, but I was proud of him for remaining at Miss Dubois’s side. He was loyal enough to follow her into hell and back, and I found I envied her that.

I concentrated on keeping myself centered as we traveled. The many layers of spells pulled at me in every direction like tiny hooks set in my skin. How did anyone accomplish anything in this city? One might be headed to the market, blissfully unaware, and walk into the wall of a ward.

To the naked eye the exterior of the building was unremarkable, but to my enhanced seer’s vision it oozed clouds of crimson lust and black death. I did not encounter necromancy often, and I was glad of it, for it was horrid to behold. Endless shades of darkness stretched thin over the walls of the building like the last bit of marmalade scraped over a piece of toast. Magicians had never been meant to live forever, and master necromancers cheated death by prolonging their lives. As I understood it, Death did not appreciate their efforts, and unspeakable torments awaited masters in the afterlife.

“Do not speak without my express permission,” Miss Dubois warned before we exited the carriage. I nodded in silent agreement.

“I would like to reiterate that this is not a good idea,” Dr. Bennett grumbled.

“It’s a terrible idea. Unfortunately it is our only option. Now, chins up, everyone. Never let a predator believe that you are afraid.”

With her head held high Miss Dubois preceded us into the vampires’ den of iniquity. I held tight to Dr. Bennett’s arm as I split my concentration between walking and blocking out the combination of emotion and magic that blared at me the moment we stepped through the doors. It was a bit like sitting in the front row of a concert hall during a particularly bombastic symphony, but I was determined to block it out. I would need all of my abilities at their strongest when we spoke with the members of the necromancer council, for reading the undead was difficult. Simon’s aura was faint, and I suspected it had something to do with the ritual that created chroniclers and master necromancers, freezing their bodies in time at the moment of their death. My heart ached at the memory of seeing Michael’s aura trapped within a glacier of his own, but then I was distracted by the sight of the vampires’ parlor and nearly tripped over my own skirts.

My eyes widened to an owlish extreme at the sight of a young woman naked from the waist up seated atop a gentleman’s lap—though “gentleman” was certainly not an accurate term, considering the indecent things he was doing with his hands while his mouth was fastened to her neck, drinking her blood. In theory I understood that a bite could be erotic, but I had never experienced that, for Simon would never behave in such a shocking manner with me. And even if by some madness he did attempt to misbehave, I was certain he would have the good sense to do it behind closed doors and not in a room filled with people. Not that anyone else appeared to be watching this display, for at a further glance they all appeared to be similarly occupied.

“Courage,” Dr. Bennett murmured.

I tried to take a steadying breath, but the air was thick with the scents of cloying floral perfume, the tang of blood and the musk of sex. Instead I swallowed hard and stared at the back of Miss Dubois’s navy gown. This kept me from seeing any of the other carnal activities happening around us as we passed through several other rooms, but I could hear them quite well, and my face burned with the heat of a bonfire. Apparently the necromancers were in good spirits. If I had ever had any doubts as to the reason why necromancers were not invited to other magician gatherings, this explained why. The moans and sighs of ecstasy did, however, remind me that I had not intimate relations with my husband in many long, lonely months, and depending on the details of his newfound condition I might well never have them with him again.

The noise and activity quieted as we moved deeper and lower into the building, traveling down a winding set of stairs. The air cooled, and I was glad of it as the burn faded from my cheeks. Our group paused at a large set of doors in what I assumed must be the cellar. Two masters stood guard, and one stepped into the room beyond, presumably to announce our presence. The other master sidled closer to me, eyeing me with a hungry expression, and Miss Dubois whapped him on the leg with her parasol.

“My associates are not to be interfered with,” she warned.

The vampire hissed and grumbled something unflattering about guardians, but he returned to his post. We were ushered into the room, and I was both surprised and relieved to find it plain and quiet. A round wooden table took up the center of the room, with three individuals seated in a semicircle on the far side: two men and one woman. They were dressed richly yet conservatively, though each held to a different style that was out of fashion. Simon suffered from that ailment as well, considering himself too busy to learn and adhere to the latest trends. I had been the first positive influence on his wardrobe in years, possibly even centuries.

“Greetings, guardian,” the woman said. “I see that you have brought reinforcements to aid in your accusations.” Her pale face was framed with curls of shockingly red hair that seemed too bright to be natural. Like me she wore all black, complete with a veil that fell forward to cover her eyes. I wondered if she had lost someone recently, or was still mourning the loss of an ancient romance. “Why don’t you introduce your pretty companion?”

“This is Mrs. Emily Black. She is a seer.”

A low hiss sighed through the room. The man in the center of the group leapt to his feet. “You dare bring a member of the Order here!”

“Mrs. Black is not a member of the Order. They have refused her aid. I am not so foolish,” Miss Dubois replied.
Foolish
. I supposed that word would suffice, though I had much stronger words to describe my feelings about the Order’s rejection.

The councilwoman eyed me. “Is that true? The Order refused you?”

I looked to Miss Dubois, and she nodded permission for me to reply. “Yes. They felt it would set a poor precedent.”

The woman snorted. “Of course they did. Step closer, Mrs. Black, so that your view is not impeded.”

Miss Dubois moved aside, allowing me to pass, and I took a few hesitant steps forward. Choking my anxiety down, I allowed my vision to shift. Miss Dubois was bright as ever, casting a noticeable glow from her spot behind me, but it was amazing how little color there was in the rest of the room. The shadows became thicker and deeper, almost stifling, and the auras of the three masters flickered like the flames of distant candles.

“Another victim was found last evening, and her body was mere inches away from the Undiscovered Country. Do you expect the good people of this city to believe that no necromancer was involved in her death?” Miss Dubois asked.

The gentleman in the middle spoke next, a blond man wearing a hat plumed with a ridiculously large feather. “We expect them to believe it, for it is the truth.”

Indeed, he appeared to be telling the truth, but it was difficult to tell from such a broad statement. “The question needs to be more specific,” I said to Miss Dubois.

“Was any necromancer involved in the kidnapping and death of Mrs. Clara Harding?” she asked.

“No,” the councilwoman replied.

Again, it appeared to be true. “How can you be certain of that?” I asked.

“Necromancers do not kill to feed.” The councilman with the enormous hat sounded quite offended by the idea.

“But they can, and they have. That is no answer,” Miss Dubois said before I could voice that opinion myself.

“We enforce our rules and police our own.” The councilwoman’s energy flared brighter in a fit of temper, and that made her easier to read. “Any murder reflects poorly on us, and this many are simply not possible. We would have caught the person responsible by now.” She was very certain of that, and my brow furrowed as I considered her words.

“There is no way there could be a master you haven’t accounted for? Perhaps a foreigner who arrived and did not announce his presence?” I suggested.

Each of the masters’ magic dimmed at that idea, as though they did not like admitting the possibility even to themselves, and sickly greenish-yellow fear dominated the energy that was left. A shiver ran through me, down to my toes, for the situation must be truly dire to cause fear in ancient vampires. I turned to Miss Dubois and winced at her shining energy, and my vision blinked back to normal.

“If it is a master, it is not one that they know of. They are telling you the truth,” I said.

“Thank you,” the guardian replied.

“Our word should have been enough for you, Miss Dubois,” the councilwoman said pointedly.

“I have been lied to before by council members, Lady Brigid.”

An Irishwoman? She had no discernable accent. How interesting.

“Well, I do not know what sort of practices our godless American cousins keep, but I can assure you, Miss Dubois, that we do not lie to guardians here,” Lady Brigid said.

Miss Dubois smiled politely. “I will remember that for future reference. Now, if you will excuse us—”

“I would like to speak with Mrs. Black. Alone,” Lady Brigid interrupted. I flinched, startled. “Why don’t you two join the celebration?”

The other two masters glared at her, but much to my surprise they rose and left the room. Miss Dubois hesitated. “I would rather not leave my companion in your company.”

“I promise that I will not harm her in any way, nor bother her with spell or touch. I merely wish to speak with her.” The councilwoman seemed harmless, which only served to make me more suspicious, but she also seemed sincere.

Miss Dubois stepped forward and touched my shoulder. “Dr. Bennett and I will be right outside if you need us.”

I nodded, not trusting my voice. They left, and I was alone with a member of the necromancer council. I tried to imagine the expression on Simon and Michael’s faces if they had known where I was at the moment. What was worse than fury? Seething rage?

Lady Brigid and I studied each other. “I must admit, Mrs. Black, that I am not surprised the Order does not appreciate your unique abilities. They have always lacked a creative element, and they have never truly appreciated women’s magic.”

Though I agreed, I remained silent.

“As I understand it, your husband recently became a chronicler. It must be difficult for you, facing your mortality alone.”

My spine straightened as I drew myself up. “Do you have a point, Lady Brigid?”

“I do.” She smiled, and I shivered, reminded of a wolf baring its teeth. “I have not met a seer in many long years. I know how it is to be a woman in a man’s world. To have your abilities viewed as less important merely due to the circumstances of your birth. Men prefer to forget that the goddess was a warrior in addition to a mother.”

“I am no warrior,” I said.

“Oh, but you could be, my dear. You would be a powerful necromancer. We each retain a bit of our original abilities, and your visions would be invaluable.”

“Mr. Farrell said something similar to me, the night he murdered two people at Lord Willowbrook’s ball, and just before he tried to kill me as well. I can assure you, Lady Brigid, that power has never appealed to me, and I am certain that becoming a necromancer would not solve any difficulties between myself and my chronicler husband. As I understand it, the Order is not allowed to meddle in necromancer affairs.”

“Quite right, Mrs. Black. In fact, your friend Simon St. Jerome was censured quite severely for his actions in killing Mr. Farrell.”

Startled, I took a step back, and the councilwoman smiled slyly.

“He did not mention the trial to you?” she asked, and I shook my head numbly. “It was the social sensation that year.”

A trial
…as angry as I often was with Simon, it was easy to forget that he had saved my life that night, and Michael’s life as well. I had no idea he had been in trouble for his actions. Did Michael know? Surely he must, being Simon’s apprentice. Had they both conspired to keep the truth from me? Simon probably believed it wasn’t important for me to know…

“Perhaps you should ask him about it when next you see him. In the meantime, I suggest you take some time to think about becoming a necromancer. Exceptions could be made for your unique situation, particularly if you allied yourself with the right mentor. Such as myself.” Lady Brigid smiled again, and I didn’t find the expression pleasant. In fact, with the veil covering her eyes it was rather disconcerting. “Oh, and please tell Miss Dubois that I would be glad to aid in her investigation in any way that I am able. My two colleagues are not enlightened enough to willingly offer help to a female guardian, but I would be happy to.”

“Thank you, my lady.” It seemed the right thing to say, though I wasn’t sure of the proper way to address her. She waved a hand and dismissed me, and I retreated from the room.

“What did she want?” Miss Dubois asked the moment I rejoined her and Dr. Bennett.