Authors: M.J. Scott
Shadow Kin (5 page)
“Judging by your expression, drinking this rat’s piss isn’t going to improve my mood,” Guy drawled.
The drawl was a concern. Guy had spent a year or two of his training in the Voodoo Territories and had come home with a fondness for chicory coffee and a drawl that showed up when he was about to unleash his temper.
I sent an extra thread of power to the shields set around the room. As the sounds of the drinkers below grew slightly more muffled, I watched Guy carefully. He leaned back in his chair, hardened leather vest creaking in protest as he folded his arms and scowled.
I scowled back. “These days nothing improves your mood.”
“Which begs the question why you’re adding to my problems, little brother.”
I ignored the “little brother” gibe. Truth was, we were the same height. Guy was heavier, his bulk coming from wearing mail and carrying a sword every day, but not taller. I might have that same bulk if not for choices made long ago. “The City isn’t just your problem.”
“No, but you are,” Guy said.
His frown deepened and I felt mine do the same. “I’m not your problem,” I said flatly.
The Templars helped police the streets and I helped patch up those who came to grief in them. Lately there had been far too much business for both of us. The City’s mood was savage and boded no good for anyone. Half-light, some called the City. These days it was starting to feel more like near dark, like we were sliding inexorably toward the Night World. My visitor last night had only proved that. But I, for one, intended to stand against the fall.
“As I recall,” Guy said, his drawl thickening, “we’re still brothers, no? I might not have any other authority over you these days, but family is family. And apparently someone wants you dead. Sounds like a problem to me.” Leather creaked again as Guy uncrossed his arms, one hand drifting to the pommel of his sword. “Or was there some other reason you dragged me out of bed?”
I met his stare without flinching. “I need a favor.”
“Go on.”
“Templars do, on occasion, make use of spies?”
Guy’s brows drew together. “We have informants, if that’s what you mean.” He raised the glass, then stopped, peering over the rim at me. “Why do you need a spy, little brother?”
“I want to find out more about her.”
The glass slammed back to the table. “About the wraith? About Lucius’ fucking chief assassin? What more do you need to know?”
I took another swig of the god-awful whiskey. “I don’t think it’s that simple.”
“Hell’s balls, Simon. She tried to kill you. Tell me you aren’t mooning over her.”
I ignored the memory of red, red hair sliding over my hands. “I’m not an idiot.”
“Then why do you need to know anything more about her?”
I frowned, trying to figure out how to explain it. “There was something there, Guy.”
“Something? Fuck, you
are
mooning.”
are
mooning.”
“No. I’m not. But I—” Light curse it. Guy didn’t understand. It wasn’t her face or body that intrigued me. It was what she didn’t want me to see. The wounded woman behind the big gray eyes. Sitting there, tied to my chair, she’d sat quietly, awaiting her fate. No pleas or protests. Just mute acceptance. As if there were nothing she could do to change things. As if she had no right to expect mercy.
I knew that look—I saw it sometimes in the women who came to St. Giles when the men in their lives were too quick with their fists or boots.
She’d said she didn’t need healing, but she was wrong. Every instinct I had told me that. Guy couldn’t understand. He hadn’t seen those haunted gray eyes.
“What, you think you’re going to find her deep dark secret and somehow bring her over to our side? The woman’s probably killed more people than I have. She works for Lucius. She’s not a damsel in distress.”
I reached for the whiskey. Maybe it would improve with another taste. “I know that. But she wasn’t what I expected. I think—”
“With her history, the only way she could redeem herself would be if she testified against Lucius and helped us bring him down,” Guy said disgustedly.
I froze. Testify? It was brilliant. “I didn’t think of that,” I admitted. But I was now. If we could bring a case against Lucius to the Fae queen—bring
evidence
that he had broken the treaty to her—then that might be the only thing that could tip the balance of power in the City back in our favor.
evidence
that he had broken the treaty to her—then that might be the only thing that could tip the balance of power in the City back in our favor.
Guy regarded me with brotherly disgust. “Too late now, you let her go.”
I grabbed the bottle and leaned across the table to refill Guy’s glass, trying to hide the lingering stiffness riding me despite the hours I’d spent in the sun already. By the time the Shadow had left, I’d felt the ache in my muscles, tiny tremors of pain caused by the effort of holding the sunlamps alight for so long. But it didn’t seem as though she’d noticed. She hadn’t tried anything at the end. Just as well. I hadn’t been in any condition to fight.
I wasn’t even sure she’d really noticed
me
at all. Once or twice there’d been a flicker of something in those eyes or color staining her face that may have been more than the sunburn.
me
at all. Once or twice there’d been a flicker of something in those eyes or color staining her face that may have been more than the sunburn.
Gods and suns. The sunburn. I gulped whiskey to hide my instinctive wince.
Harm to none. Aid to all.
That was the oath I’d sworn. One that bound me as surely as Guy’s bound him to his God. It was who I was. Aid to all. Everyone in the City would be better off if Lucius no longer ruled the Blood.
“You’re right,” I said.
Guy raised an eyebrow—the one bisected by the scar he’d gotten in a dispute with a Blood lord many years ago. It wasn’t his only scar. Get mixed up with the Night World—or stand in their way rather—and scars are inevitable. “About what?”
“We need her to testify.”
“Forget it, little brother. There’s no way that’s ever going to happen.” His expression turned stern. “What we need is to know why Lucius wants you dead.” He raised his glass with studied movements that only slightly camouflaged the well-trained killer hidden beneath the seemingly calm surface. The red crosses emblazoned on the backs of his hands seemed to glow like fresh blood despite the dimness of the room. “What did you do?”
“Who says I did anything?” I snarled. “Lucius is a loose cannon, you know that.” Indeed, if anyone had to take a guess as to who was behind the escalating troubles in the City, they’d be likely to name Lucius. Proving it was another matter.
“Unpredictable, yes. But he’s not stupid. Why would he risk violating the treaty to kill you?”
“He probably thought he’d get away with it clean. I doubt she leaves traces.” I tried to rein in my temper. I needed a clear head to avoid telling Guy too much. But I only managed in pushing it back a little. The hard knot of anger that had ridden my stomach since last night was still there.
“You must have done something.”
“Who knows why Lucius does anything? There have been a few more Beasts at the hospital than usual. Maybe I stitched up someone from the wrong pack.” It wasn’t entirely the truth. There was one other reason that Lucius might wish me dead. But no one who would betray me knew that particular secret. Suns, not even Guy knew it. My fingers tightened around my glass.
“He knows that violating the treaty like this would screw him when the negotiations come round. Didn’t you ask the wraith?”
“Strangely, she didn’t seem to want to tell me.”
Guy’s mouth twisted. “And knowing you, you didn’t try too hard to persuade her.”
My own mouth went flat. “I don’t torture women, Guy. I don’t torture anyone. My oaths are just as important as yours.”
Guy’s chair clattered backward as he stood. He leaned toward me, hands flat on the table. “So you just let her go. You could’ve handed her over to us.”
He wasn’t quite yelling. But he was close to the edge. I was glad of the shields as I stood too and took three steps around the table. If he wanted to go a few rounds over this, then so be it. Maybe he’d listen to reason once he’d worked off his temper. I stepped closer, crowding him. “And what would you have done with her? How would you have even held her once it was dark?”
His jaw clenched. “You’re not the only sunmage in the City, Simon.”
“True. But none of your Templar mages can call sunlight at night for more than a few minutes, can they?” I held his gaze. The conversation was skirting old and treacherous territory. Treading that path wouldn’t help resolve anything. “Even if they could, turning her over to you for questioning would still violate my oaths.”
“Thanks to your oaths, we have no proof that Lucius tried anything at all,” Guy said, speaking through gritted teeth.
“And if it had been you and
your
oaths, then she’d probably be dead and we’d be no better off,” I shot back.
your
oaths, then she’d probably be dead and we’d be no better off,” I shot back.
“Hell, Simon, you—”
“Either punch me or shut up and listen.”
His eyebrows shot up and I braced myself for a fist to the face, standing my ground. But then he backed off a step or two. For a moment he stood still, head bowed, breathing heavily. No doubt trying to rein in his own temper with a few pleas for his God to spare him from the plague of family.
Finally he raised his head and looked at me levelly for a few seconds. Then he bent, picked up his chair, and set it carefully back on its feet. “Say something worth listening to, little brother.” The drawl was back but he seemed somewhat calmer.
I eased back, giving us both space. Calmer wasn’t calm. One of us might yet end up with a blackened eye or two. “Even if you questioned her, what good would it have done? The Fae won’t take testimony given under duress, you know that. Do you think she would’ve cooperated if I’d turned her over? I don’t.”
“No,” Guy snapped. “I don’t.”
I could almost see the frustration rising from him. I understood it. I felt the same. Anyone who saw the damage inflicted by the Night World daily had to. But torture wasn’t the answer. I settled myself back into the chair, waited for Guy to do the same. “What if I could talk her into helping us?”
Guy gave one burst of incredulous laughter, then choked it off. “Did you melt your brain with one of your sunbeams?”
I ignored his laughter. “No.”
Pale eyebrows drew together like a lightning bolt of disapproval. “Fuck. You want to save her, don’t you? This is another one of your crusades.”
I didn’t react. Didn’t want him to see he was right, or partially so. The Templars were pretty damn pragmatic, and chivalry was hardly the priority in their code of honor these days. Guy cut down female Blood with no hesitation if they broke the law. Shadow wasn’t Blood but she was hardly on the side of the angels.
“No, it’s not. You’re the one who brought up the idea of her testifying.”
“I didn’t think you’d take me seriously. She’s Night World.”
“And that means she’s beyond hope?”
“Hell’s balls, you never learn. Same old story.”
“At least I try,” I shot back, anger and regret rapidly loosening my grip on my temper.
“At what cost?” Guy’s voice was rising again.
I sucked in a breath, held up a hand, palm out. “We are not having this argument again.” I couldn’t change the past and neither could Guy. Fifteen years of arguing had taught me that much. Opening old wounds wouldn’t help anything right now.
Guy held up his hands too, his face grim. “Fine. But you can’t save everyone, little brother.”
“That’s ironic coming from a man who has dedicated his own life to saving people.” Ever since I’d become a healer, people had been telling me I couldn’t save everyone, but no one ever lectured Guy.
“I’m sworn to defend, not save. There’s a difference.”
“Which is?”
“When you defend, the idea is to keep the greatest number safe. You know you’ll lose some of them. You know that some of them will always choose the other side. And you know how to choose your battles.”
“I am choosing my battles. Think about it, Guy. Think about what it would mean if she did cooperate. If we could present sworn testimony that Lucius tried to assassinate a human healer from his very own assassin? Putting aside the fact that you think I’m insane right now.”
He had to see it. It was his idea, after all. The treaty negotiations were a little over three months away. They only came around once every five years. And for the last five years, Lucius had been growing stronger. He wanted more. If we couldn’t push his power back during these negotiations, who knew if the City would still be standing by then?
Lucius had been steadily extending his power base, pushing into the border boroughs. Increasing the number of Blood and blood-locked. But thus far, he hadn’t broken any tenets of the treaty. None that could be proven anyway. Without proof, we humans had little chance of getting the Fae to agree to move against the Blood during the negotiations.
Guy’s gaze locked with mine. “I’m well aware of the politics. I’m the one out there keeping the peace.”
“And I’m the one patching up the casualties. I see just as much as you.” I leaned in closer. The wooden chair dug into the backs of my thighs, unyielding as Guy himself. “You always said there were things worth fighting for.”
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