God Save the Queen (The Immortal Empire) (44 page)

I don’t quite know how much time passed before I was able to go after Church. I let the rage fester inside me until I felt like I might explode, though I kept it contained while I spoke to the inspectors.

I avoided my family as best I could. It wasn’t that difficult, as they were all in shock and staring at me like they didn’t know me any more. In fact, even the press gave me a wide berth. Being a goblin was going to have some perks after all, it seemed.

Shit. The whole world was going to know I was a goblin in a few days. News like this wouldn’t be confined to just London, or even England. Pretty soon my freakishness would be broadcast on an international level. I couldn’t even begin to fathom the ramifications.

Meanwhile, my furry kin had made themselves scarce. The prince had no issue with ruining what should have been the single
most important night of my career, but he didn’t want to stick around for the aftermath.

My career. This was going to be the end of it. Only halvies could be Royal Guard. I’d have to give up my badge, my gun. My life.

I turned to Vex, who had stayed by my side the entire time. He was the only one who had. “I need to be alone.”

“Are you sure?” he asked.

I hated lying to him – he was so
good
. This was going to affect him as well. What would the pack think of him sleeping with a goblin? How long would it be before he was forced to walk away? “Yes.”

“Because if you’re going after that fanged cunt, I want to be with you.”

I brought my hand up to touch his face and stopped – I was still covered in my sister’s blood, though it was sticky and cold now. “I don’t want you involved.” It wasn’t just a matter of revenge; it was politics.

His mouth thinned, but I knew he understood. He understood probably better than I did. “Be careful, and call me if you need me.”

I nodded, gave him back his coat and slipped away. I made certain Church saw me.

There was a tunnel beneath the palace that had both an interior and exterior entrance. It was an escape route for Queen V should there ever be another attack on Buckingham Palace. As a leftenant in the RG I was one of the few people outside the aristocracy who knew where these entrances were located. It was how the prince had managed to get in and out. It was also probably how Church had smuggled his assassin inside.

The external door was within the palace gates, so I didn’t have to be concerned with the press following me. I found it relatively
easily, though if I hadn’t known where to look I would have missed it, as it was concealed within a false section of the exterior wall. It was unlocked, just as I had expected. In London, doors that led underground were usually kept easily opened, with the assumption that anyone who chose to use them was taking their life into their own hands. The goblins might not come up to hunt very often, but anything that walked into their territory was considered fair game.

But I didn’t have to worry about that any more, did I? Now people had to worry about
me
. Imagine the fear I’d inspire as a goblin who could walk in the daylight, who could grab a child whenever I wanted.

I paused just inside the door as it closed behind me. How long before an angry mob of humans showed up at my door with torches and pitchforks? How long before the Bedlamite insurgents, or the vampires, or the weres, decided I needed to be put down?

Let them come
, a little voice in my head whispered.
You have some of the most terrifying creatures in history behind you
.
You’re one of them.

But right now I had more important matters at hand.

Stone stairs led below ground. I jogged down one flight, turned and then took another. I didn’t stop until I reached the small platform lit by a solitary light. It was the abandoned mail rail. Extra lines had been installed around Mayfair after the Great Insurrection, so as to provide an escape for aristos in the event of a future attack. Vex and I had travelled on just such a line when the goblins found Simon.

Poor Simon. Had Churchill shown him any compassion before executing him? My friend had died so he couldn’t reveal my secret, but it had been revealed anyway. Church hadn’t figured on the prince coming above ground to claim me. Now his plans of
secretly using me to secure the future of the aristocratic – specifically the vampire – nation were ruined.

Thank God.

I slipped the Bulldog from beneath my bustle. The blood on my hands had mostly dried, but was still a little tacky on the metal. Did the old man know I could hear him, even though he was silent as a cat? Probably not. I’d always thought him so quiet; now his footsteps sounded as clumsy as a human’s as he came down the stairs.

I held the gun close to my skirts, out of sight, and waited.

“I thought I might find you here.”

At the sound of Church’s voice, a wave of sorrow washed over me. I turned to see him standing a few feet away, the gun in his hand pointed straight at me.

“And I knew you’d chase me,” I replied wearily. “Why’d you kill her, Church? Just to hurt me?”

“She got herself killed. She should have stayed in hiding.”

“You knew she’d want to see me and the boy.”

“I thought she might, yes. Predictable, your poor sister. I saved her the torture she would have got in Newgate. We both know death was the best thing for her.”

“She was guilty only of faking her own death, nothing more.”

“She aligned herself with traitors, my dear. I’ve already given Her Majesty all the notes from my investigation into Drusilla’s activities. I’d been watching her for some time – not long after she was first approached by Ophelia Blackwood and her traitorous followers.”

Ophelia? So Church didn’t know everything, then. He didn’t know Bedlam was their primary hideout and he didn’t know my mother led them.

I didn’t try to hide my disgust. “I suppose all of this buys you much of Victoria’s favour, doesn’t it?”

“There’s an old saying about joining that which you cannot defeat. She’ll favour me for weakening her enemies. She’ll favour me even more if I fix the problem you now present.”

Of course this was how it was going to go. I smirked. “Oh, Church. Are your affections that fickle that you’d toss me over with so little regard?”

“I’ve loved you since the first day I met you,” he replied, and my heart leapt in surprise. “You have always been extraordinary, but now the world knows what you are. They will hate you and fear you. I can’t protect you any more. I’d rather see you dead than in a cage.”

This was not what I had expected to hear. I hadn’t expected to see genuine remorse on his face. “Am I to understand that as the man in charge, you couldn’t protect me from that?”

“I’m not in charge of those experiments, my dear. The responsibility for that is higher up the food chain than my lowly self.”

Well, wasn’t that just fucking marvellous. Exactly what I wanted to hear. “You’ll start a war with the goblins.” I had the satisfaction of seeing him pale at that.

“I can take care of the goblins. We should have fire-bombed their den a long time ago.”

My stomach cramped. I’d always hated goblins. Like everyone else I’d been terrified of them, but now that I had a connection, now that I knew I was one of them, the thought of them being wiped out was horrible. Aside from Vex, they were the only ones who accepted me. The prince had done nothing but help me – though it would be a while before I could forgive him for announcing my goblinness to the world.

I’d changed so much in the last few weeks I barely recognised myself at times.

Church raised his pistol. “I am truly sorry it has come to this, Xandra, but you are my responsibility, and if I don’t deal with the
problems you’ve made, it won’t go well for me. You either align yourself with me, or we end this. Now.”

So it came down to me or him. Fair enough. It was an easy choice on my part, albeit a painful one. I hated him, but part of me still loved him.

“I used to look up to you,” I told him. My voice was shamefully hoarse. “Every man I’ve ever met I’ve compared to you.”

“Even Vexation MacLaughlin?” His tone was bitter. Mocking.

“Even him. Although I have to say, he wins hands down, Church. You’re pathetic. Pitiful, even. I feel sorry for you. You’ll never be good enough, you know that, don’t you? They will always see you as less than them.”

Flushed, ruddy and dark, he pulled the trigger, but I dived out of the way of the shot – right into one of the mail cars. It was what I’d hoped he’d do. I needed him angry and vicious. It was the only way I could go through with what I had to do.

I pivoted my body and whipped my own weapon up to shoot out the light. The small room exploded into darkness as I struggled upright. I could see in the blackness – not quite perfectly, but better than before; better than Church. I reached into the front of the train and shoved the lever that set the little engine in motion.

Church jumped into another car as the train began to pull away. He wasn’t far behind me, and blindly coming closer. I aimed my gun at him – right between his lying, traitorous eyes. I could end him and avenge Dede right then and there.

But I wanted him to see it coming.

I flicked the safety and shoved the Bulldog into the bustle holster. I was fairly certain Church wouldn’t have heard the sound over the noise of the little train. This thing had to be one of the originals from 1927. Though it had seats installed for Her Majesty and her entourage, the engine hadn’t been refurbished.

Church had almost reached me – the train wasn’t very long. I had my calves pressed back against the engine car, my feet firmly planted on the swaying floor.

We were travelling fast enough that a breeze ruffled my hair. It felt nice, despite the smell of dust and dirt, and old machine. And Dede’s blood. I couldn’t forget that. Not even for a second could I forget that.

For weeks I’d fought to keep a tight hold on my sanity, and now … well, I’d let go of that the moment my sister died in my arms. Whatever I was right now – goblin, halvie, freak – sanity played no part in it. I was full-on hatters and it felt right.

Church had his gun in his left hand when he reached me. I grabbed his wrist and twisted hard. He actually cried out when the bones snapped. The pistol clattered to the floor of the car. A half-blood never would have had the strength to hurt him.

I released his arm and caught him with a right hook. His head flew back, but he didn’t fall. He came back with a right of his own that struck me hard on the side of the head. I’d forgotten that the old man was ambidextrous.

We went through a section of tunnel lit by another solitary light, and I caught a glimpse of him twisting his injured wrist into proper alignment. I bitch-slapped him, and we plunged into darkness once more. He knew exactly where I was now, however.

I blocked his next swing, but was totally unprepared for his skull smashing into mine. Stars exploded in front of my eyes. Bloody bastard. Wanted to play like that, did he?

I brought my knee up, and was rewarded with the feeling of his bollocks squishing like ripe plums against my leg. He doubled over, and I gave his nose the ball of my hand, smiling as cartilage crunched. If the blood on my hands had still been wet, I would have smeared his face with it just so he would have to wear it and smell it as I did.

I could have done more damage, but I wasn’t trying to kill him. I was merely playing.

A glance over my shoulder and I saw that we were almost at our destination. I pulled the handbrake just as Church straightened. The train screeched to a halt, sending him stumbling once more.

“For a vampire, you certainly are a clumsy twat,” I sneered, before vaulting over the side. Bits of brick and broken glass crunched beneath my heels. There had been a light here once, but it had been busted a long time ago and never replaced. On the opposite side of the track, an old oil lamp in a sconce cast a weak glow on the rusty fresco painted on the wall beside it. Next to the painting was a door. I ran to it, pulled it open and ran down the dark stairs.

I stopped at the bottom and listened, waiting for Church to give chase before continuing.

“I’ll get you, you fucking goblin bitch,” he snarled. All pretext of caring was gone. Good. I needed his hate. Needed to see him for what he really was. He might have thought he loved me, but I was just a stepping stone in his ego’s quest for social elevation.

I laughed. I’d really pissed him off if he’d taken to swearing. “Brassed off that I got the better of you? You’re the one who taught me to fight.” With that I scampered away, running through the dark as sure-footed as any cat. A brick whizzed past my head.

“Try throwing with the hand I didn’t break,” I called over my shoulder, adding a hefty dose of mockery to every word.

I ducked into another doorway – this one roughly forged, chipped away by decades of use and disregard – and waited with my back flat up against the rough wall. The air smelled of dirt and fruit, smoke and fur.

And yes, a hint of pine. A torch burned in each corner of the hall, illuminating little pieces of life the Romans had left behind. If I looked long enough, I’d probably find bits of an actual Roman too.

Church burst into the hall just as I snapped my arm straight out. His throat connected hard with my forearm, sending shock waves all the way to my shoulder. He fell back like a cut tree, hitting the dirt floor with a loud thud. That had to hurt. He’d heal quickly, but for a few minutes he’d have one hell of a concussion.