The Darkling Lord: Court of the Banished book 1 (Annwyn Series 4) (14 page)

T
he fresh scar
on Henry’s thigh was still pink and shiny, but at least it had stopped throbbing. He tied his shoelaces and made sure that the knife around his ankle was secure. The Mayor would expect him to be armed. Turning up empty handed would arouse suspicion. Then he finished buttoning his shirt. Like anyone, the veins in his wrists were visible. To casual observer they just seemed a little dark. It was only when his blood was spilled that people realized he wasn’t like them.

The knife fight when he was twelve had been revealing. He’d lost…until the other boy had lost his life. It was then Henry had realized that he could heal by taking another soul. For a while it had made him fearless. After a while—maybe once he’d hit thirty and realized he wasn’t aging either—he noticed his scares didn’t fade. The redness left, but the marks remained.

And if he was scarred on the outside, he must be scarred on the inside.

He’d grown more cautious after that.

He buttoned up the cuffs, put on a tie and the suit jacket. All he needed was a couple of dice. His finger traced over the dice in the bowl, they glittered with a thousand faces and promises. The ten sided jet one looked like a good one for today—he could do with some extra numbers in his favor. And for luck? The weighted birch. It had once been pale, but repeated handling had given the pale wood a warm sheen. He gave them a test roll. Jet ten, birch three. Lucky thirteen. He dropped them both into his pocket.

Someone knocked on his door. His heart leapt because there might be a very small chance it was Darah. He shut that down fast. It wouldn’t be. She hadn’t spoken to him since he’d given her his defense for taking a soul and killing. She knew what he was, yet obviously she’d been able to push the reality aside to lie in his bed.

He touched the desk, the memory was strong enough to heat his blood. With a snarl he strode toward the door. He couldn’t afford to be distracted by pretty things from Annwyn. He opened the door only to find the corridor empty.

“Henry, sir.”

He looked down. “Zaly.”

Was it the child’s birthday already? He knelt down and offered his hand to the Grey. She jumped up and stood on his knee.

“The child is well. The mother is fretting. Tomorrow is the day.”

“They are still in the city?”

Zaly nodded. “They are staying not far from here…I think she might come back when her daughter sickens from soul fever.”

Soul fever, it’s what he called it. It had a slightly more romantic air than death hunger, or murderous need. Tomorrow the child would start to sicken, the next day she’d die. A year and a day was all the souls lasted. “Can you stay a little longer?”

Zaly nodded and studied her tiny feet. Of all the Greys she still looked like a Court fairy, pretty even though she’d lost the luminescence that being connected to Annwyn gave fairies. That was the punishment of being Grey, being forever cut off from Annwyn. It was a slow, ugly death. Exiled fairies were banned from returning to Annwyn, but still connected to the magic, stuck in the mortal world until their sentence expired or they earned their way back into favor.

Greys got no such reprieve. All hope had been taken from them. That was possibly the cruelest part.

“Do you want me to fetch you when the time is near, or will you let her pass?” Zaly didn’t look up as she spoke. Did she not want to know the answer? Had she made a connection with the child already?

Perhaps it wasn’t just him who felt the need to be seen and touched. To exist and have meaning in someone else’s life.

Henry swallowed and closed his eyes. The life he had, the life he’d lived was etched on his skin and imprinted on his mind. Darah’s withdrawal. The fact that he couldn’t kiss a human without killing or have a mortal lover for any length of time…he wouldn’t age and they would. Did he want to condemn a child?

Or was he giving her a choice?

When she was older she could let the burden go if she wanted. Or she could find a way to make existing tolerable. But his decision wasn’t about Peri, it was about him. He couldn’t kill an innocent child.

“Fetch me if the mother doesn’t bring her. Fetch me before nightfall.” Because by dawn Peri would be dead.

Zaly jumped down and walked toward the elevators where Kaid waited. Had he been there the whole time? Probably. From where he was standing, Henry could see Kaid had taken his role as hired thug seriously. He counted at least three guns. But that wasn’t Kaid’s preferred way of killing. Drowning was. Followed by garroting. Somewhere on him Kaid would have a thin length of wire.

Hopefully Kaid wasn’t feeling hungry.

Henry shut his door and walked down the hallway. “Shall we make some trouble?”

“Fuck, yeah. The dick’s had it coming.” Kaid stabbed the button with a grin that made Henry feel very glad the bridle was safely hidden. He never wanted to feel the wire around his throat. His tie was suddenly too tight, but he didn’t dare loosen it.

He’d promised himself that he would return the bridle when he was sure that Kaid would be loyal. He’d always treated him as a friend and confidante. Maybe it wasn’t enough, because some days he was sure that Kaid was plotting a hundred ways to kill him. However, he was pretty sure that Kaid was always plotting how to kill everyone he walked past.

Henry had always hated horses, even the mortal ones.

T
he bicycle taxi
driver came and picked them up at the casino, taking them across town to the Mayor’s offices. At first glance nothing changed, the streets were still potholed, and grass and weeds were making a successful incursion into civilization. However there were no people lingering on the sidewalks and none of the buildings looked as though they’d been ransacked either.

The taxi driver slowed, then stopped. “I’m not waiting. If you live, call me and I’ll pick you up from here.”

They were still one block away. It was near enough and he didn’t want to be causing trouble for the driver. Henry paid and tipped. “I shouldn’t be more than an hour.”

The man pocketed the money and took off as if the devil was on his tail. If he’d known he was driving two beings most people would think of as devils he may not have been so quick to take Henry’s calls or his money.

“Think he’ll try and kill us outright?” Kaid tipped his face to the sun as if they were out on a stroll and talking about the weather not murder.

Henry had already considered that. “No, otherwise we’d be dead already.”

“He’s got shooters on three of the buildings. They are watching us...” Kaid waved then flipped the bird. “Maybe he wants to do it himself?”

Henry half expected a bullet to whizz overhead in warning but nothing happened. The shooters were well disciplined. And probably well trained. They wouldn’t miss if they did shoot. “From what I’ve heard he doesn’t get his hands dirty with wet work.”

Still not a comforting thought.

“You do, it’s why when I kill you I’ll make it quick.” Kaid smiled as if that was a genuine compliment.

Henry raised one eyebrow. “Who needs enemies when I have friends like you?”

“You’d do the same for me.”

“I’d rather not kill anyone.” Going into a meeting plotting murder wasn’t the way to ensure a good outcome, only a bloody one.

Kaid looked at Henry. “If someone else takes my bridle I may not have a choice. Think about that. If you gave it to me so I could destroy it I wouldn’t be the unexploded ordinance in your back pocket.”

“How do I know you won’t go freelance to the highest bidder?” And if the highest bidder was the Mayor, Henry would still end up in Kaid’s sights.

“You don’t. But I wouldn’t take that job.”

In truth he should’ve given Kaid his bridle the moment after he’d had his revenge on his old boss, but there’d been a look in Kaid’s eye that belonged only on mad dogs and killers. Henry’s courage had faltered and the moment had passed. “I still need you.”

“You don’t trust me to stay.”

“Would you?”

Kaid shook his head. His shoulder length hair was neatly pulled back and his beard was trimmed. Somehow he still didn’t pass for an office worker. “I long for the sea. Fresh water just isn’t the same. I did try to talk you out of Detroit. We’ve been here before.”

“I like it.” Maybe not as much as he’d used to. Last time it had been fun and vibrant and he’d gotten his heart squashed like a bug by Marlis. It had taken him a decade to realize that she’d done him a favor. Now the city was too battered and bruised, bleeding from too many wounds. “Next time, the ocean.”

Kaid didn’t return Henry’s smile.

They walked into the lobby of the building. There was no one in it except for a receptionist. Guess not too many residents came here to complain about the lack of services.

“I’m here to see Mayor MacGill.”

“Second floor, Mr. Saint, he is expecting you.” She indicated to a set of elevators.

Henry took the stairs and Kaid followed.

“You’re being paranoid.” Kaid’s voice echoed softly.

“I like being immortal.” Which he was, as long as there were humans around that he could kill.

“I like being immoral too, but we don’t always get what we want.” Kaid gave a small, cold laugh that was akin to Henry running his nails down bricks. He suppressed the shudder.

Four black suited thugs were waiting. One of them spoke on his phone while giving Henry and Kaid a menacing glare. Kaid could menace with the best so Henry just feigned indifference.

“Leave your weapons here.”

“You have weapons,” Kaid said. “And I’m willing to bet the Mayor has at least one gun in his office.”

“Leave your weapons here.”

“They aren’t paid to think.” Henry removed the knife and placed it down on the desk indicated.

Kaid removed four guns and two knives and a grenade. That drew glanced from the thugs and Henry.

Kaid shrugged. “What? It’s only a flashbang.”

“Er…we need to pat you down.” The thug sounded a little less sure having seen the weapons.

“I bet you do.” Kaid leered and winked.

The thugs looked at each other, none of them wanted to touch Kaid. One got smart and pointed to Henry. Henry stood there and let the man frisk him for more weapons, which he didn’t have unless they counted his mouth. The other three thugs sorted out who was going to do Kaid with a few glances and nods.

“That’s it lower and harder. I love being frisked, can we play thug and captive later?” Kaid was enjoying this far too much, and Henry wasn’t going to say a thing to stop him. With a few words and looks Kaid had turned four thugs into uncomfortable school boys…one of which was blushing to the tops of his ears.

“Go through.”

“Thanks, wouldn’t want to keep him waiting.” Which he had done as the Mayor had wanted to meet last night.

Henry pushed open the office door and was unsurprised to find it massive and very well furnished. A man in his forties sat behind a desk as big as a bed. He watched them enter with pale blue eyes.

Very pale blue eyes.

Exactly the kind of eyes one would expect to find on a fairy…or a changeling.

That was interesting. The stakes of the game just went up. While Henry knew what the Mayor was, MacGill had no idea what Henry was. Most people didn’t. Hell, he had been forty before Verden, then Lord of the Hunt, had told him what he was. If not for that he might never have realized, and he might’ve given up on living.

“Mr. Saint so nice of you to join me. You can leave your man by the door with mine.” MacGill’s voice was soft and slippery, making him want to comply before sliding off Henry’s skin like oil. It took a heartbeat for Henry to realize the man was trying to glamour him with words.

Henry glanced at Kaid. Kaid gave him a look that said he knew exactly what the Mayor was too. Best to play along for the moment. All changelings had some small magic, it was the gift of the fairy blood, what mortals called psychic powers. This man obviously had a voice that could be very persuasive.

A dangerous magic if ever there was one. But it also explained a lot about the Mayor and why he was able to get away with so much.

Henry sat opposite MacGill, between them was an expanse of highly polished wood. He hated even thinking it, but he had desk envy. He’d never had a grand office or fancy furniture—except for when he was pretending to be someone else back before World War I. “I got your message.”

“And I got yours. How is your wound?”

That silky voice, it was no wonder no one ever said no to MacGill. He was going to end up very disappointed, or dead, after this meeting. “Fine. Cops could do with some manners though. They never once said please.”

MacGill considered Henry for a moment. He looked like a man who already knew the outcome of the game, or at least had thought he did. He blinked a couple of times as though not sure if the game was still in hand.

“I thought it was time we had a chat. You’re still in Detroit. Why?”

“I want to invest. Help the city get back on its feet.” Eventually there would be tourism again. Eventually the world would move on and those who were ready would profit. He was never going to be broke again, but he’d never bleed people for profits either.

“I’ve made it clear you won’t get the licenses you require. Why not sell to me?” MacGill laced his fingers on the desk and leaned forward.

The shimmer of magic glided over Henry’s skin. No mortal would be able to resist MacGill when he turned on the charm. If Henry said no, the game would be up.

Henry frowned as he hesitated. He needed to play along without actually agreeing. MacGill’s magic gave him another nudge. “What kind of price would you give me?”

“A fair one…two thirds of what you paid.”

“Two thirds? That’s not a fair price.” Henry was tempted to shake his head but didn’t. He had to appear to be considering the offer.

“You’ve inconvenienced me.”

“And you me.” Henry smiled. MacGills’s confidence wavered, and a small crease formed between his eyebrows. He really wasn’t used to hearing no, or even being questioned.

“You
will
sell to me.” There was no mistaking the force of the magic this time.